


Save the Last Dance for Me

by AppleCherry108



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Bad Poetry, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Crushes, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Dance, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Love Letters, M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Puppy Love, Rivalry, School Dances, Secret Admirer, Texting, Wingman Hunk (Voltron), Wingman Pidge | Katie Holt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-05-30 15:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 47,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleCherry108/pseuds/AppleCherry108
Summary: When Lance starts finding notes in his locker, begging him not to ask anyone to the end-of-the-year dance, he becomes obsessed with uncovering the identity of his secret admirer.Meanwhile, his less oblivious friends quickly realize that Lance's self-proclaimed rival is the one behind the letters, and work together to help Keith find the courage to reveal himself to Lance.





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The First Dance](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/395270) by waruimeinu. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by waruimeinu's short story _The First Dance_ , and was written with their permission. Definitely go read their story and check out their cute art!
> 
> Originally I was just going expand on their story and while I definitely have, this sort of got away from me and now it's obscenely long whoops lol

Middle school has been a rough two years. On top of the acne and growth spurts and the frankly  _weird_ things happening to his body, Lance has been having a hard time socially, too. He used to be That Cute Kid, the one with seven girlfriends in kindergarten, the one the other moms used to coo over. Now he's just awkward. He's a head taller than all his classmates and his voice sounds like he has pop rocks stuck in his throat. It's awful. He used to be charming. Now he's just the embarrassing gangly kid.

But all that's about to change! There's only a few short weeks of eighth grade left, and as the school's final preparatory lesson for high school, there's going to be a _dance!_  Lance's  _first_ school dance! He's been vibrating with excitement since it was announced. School dances are a staple of teen culture, and Lance is the sort of kid who idolizes the 80s teen movie experience. If it starred Molly Ringwald, he's seen it at least three times. So obviously, this dance is the _biggest_ deal of his entire thirteen years and ten months of life.

It was announced at the very last second on Friday, and over the weekend, Lance had gone out with Ronnie and Mama and bought his very first suit and even ordered a corsage. Now Lance just needed a date. By the time Monday rolled around, it was all Lance could think or talk about.

 

"I'm gonna ask Jenny S. Should I ask Jenny S? I mean she's the most popular, prettiest girl in our class. Maybe I should ask Jenny B instead? No no, I shouldn't lower my expectations--go big or go home, right?"

Hunk's forehead hits his locker with a loud _thunk_. " _Dude._ " he groans. "Can you stop for like, five seconds?"

Lance scoffs but Pidge cuts him off. "I don't think he's even stopped for breath since he started. Hunk, I think Lance has evolved past the need for oxygen."

Lance scowls as his friends high-five each other behind his back. "Well  _excuse me_ for taking this momentous step into adolescence seriously."

Pidge and Hunk both howl with laughter. " _Dude,_ it's an _eighth grade_ dance, it's not exactly prom."

Lance puffs out his cheeks. "It's a  _practice run_ , and it'll be an important indicator of success in high school."

His friends practically fall over themselves cackling.

"Success in  _what?_ Getting  _laid?_ " Pidge shrieks.

Lance splutters, face practically glowing with embarrassment. " _No!_ " he yelps defensively, crackly voice jumping several octaves. "Don't you guys wanna fall in love and live happily ever after?!"

Hunk snorts. "Lance, it's  _middle school_. Save that shit for college."

"Or when you're 35 and moved to Europe after faking your own death to spare your family the consequences of your life of espionage."

"Okay, one.  _What the fuck, Pidge?_ And two, you guys don't get it. The average age of a Disney princess is 16, so I only have two years to prepare to meet my soulmate. I don't want to be at homecoming my sophomore year, sharing my first dance with the love of my life only to step on their toes and make them hate me forever and then die alone!"

Pidge shakes her head with a roll of her eyes. "And you mock my illicit life of crime." The first bell rings and she starts to walk away.

Before Hunk goes to follow her, he claps a hand on Lance's shoulder, gives him a sympathetic look, and says, "Then buy dance lessons, dude."

Lance squawks indignantly as Hunk jogs after Pidge with a shit-eating grin on his face. After a moment of recovery, he scowls and sticks his tongue out at them, then turns to his locker to finally retrieve his first period books.

He was not expecting the small piece of paper that falls out.

Lance bends over to pick it up and realizes it's a note. His heart skips a beat--notes in a locker? That's Romance 101! He opens it excitedly only for his smile to fall as his eyes land on the sloppily written short note.

 

_please don't ask anyone to the dance_

 

Lance sneers and crumples the note, shoving it in his pocket. Hunk or Pidge must've written it just to mess with him, but he will not be deterred so easily. He slams his locker shut and races off to History just as the second bell sounds.

 

* * *

 

Keith sits hunched over his desk in the very back of the classroom, head resting on his folded arms as he watches the door. Like always, he was the first to arrive for class, which is easy when you can't remember your locker combination so you just carry all your stuff with you at all times. By first bell, most of the other students have filtered into the room, chatting loudly and filling the small space with noise. Keith tries not to look interested when he spots Hunk and Pidge enter, laughing about something, but their third friend isn't with them. Keith frowns, leg starting to bounce restlessly. Where's Lance? Those three are usually inseparable.

Keith chews his lip, eyes darting from the door to the clock anxiously. Finally, second bell rings and the teacher closes the door. Keith tries to shove down his disappointment, but before Mr. Smythe can even sit down at his desk, the door flies open and none other than Lance McClain comes sprinting in breathlessly.

"That's your third tardy this month, Lance." the teacher chides, making a note in his attendance folder.

"Sorry, Mr. Smythe, it won't happen again--promise." Lance pants as he carefully squeezes past bags and desks on his way to his seat. " _Very funny._ " he hisses at Hunk and Pidge as he passes his friends. The two exchange a confused look and a shrug behind his back.

With a breathless sigh, Lance plops down at his desk--his desk that just so happens to be right next to Keith's. Keith watches him. He holds his breath, hands tingling, heart going a mile a minute. When Lance opens his eyes and notices Keith staring, Keith thinks his heart might just break right out of his chest.

"What're you looking at, _Mullet?_ " Lance spits with a glare.

Keith snaps his attention forward to where the teacher is going over today's lesson. He bites his tongue, scowling, determined not to take Lance's bait. He's been sent to the office six times too many for disrupting class after Lance has egged him on.

Still, he can't help the small quiver to his hard-set jaw. He isn't sure if he's mad at Lance or at himself--what'd he think that stupid little note would accomplish? Lance hates him, and Keith...doesn't.

He doesn't know how their relationship became what it is--shouting matches and shoving and showboating and more trips to the principal's office than Keith would like to admit. Keith doesn't hate Lance, not like Lance seems to hate him. Lance is friendly and outgoing and  _funny_ , and he and Keith actually like a lot of the same stuff. Maybe it was Keith's prickly nature, or his complete lack of social skills, but his attempt at making friends with the other boy failed spectacularly and he ended up with what they are now.

_Rivals,_ apparently.

It's exactly as stupid as it sounds, but every time Lance boasts that he could jump higher or finish the work faster, Keith can't help but rise to his challenge. Because he's weak, and he just wants the other boy's attention on him. And sometimes, in the middle of their silly little competitions, it's almost fun. It's almost like they're friends.

But they're not, and Keith is painfully reminded of this every time the contest is over and the dust settles.

So he doesn't know what he was thinking with that note in Lance's locker. He probably _wasn't_ thinking, that was the problem. He was too scared to actually ask Lance to go to the dance with him, but at the same time, he didn't think he could bear to watch him go with someone else. Hence, the note.

 

 

By the time History class is over and everyone is out in the crowded hallway, Keith is just close enough behind Lance and his friends to hear their conversation.

"Seriously, you guys are assholes." Lance complains.

"What'd we do now?" Pidge sighs.

Keith watches as Lance pulls a waded piece of paper out of his pocket and chucks it at his friends. Pidge catches it as it bounces off of Hunk's chest and the two huddle together to read the note.

"I didn't write this." Pidge says, looking back up at Lance.

"Yeah, me neither."

"Then who did?" Lance demands, snatching the note back.

Keith pales, stomach churning as he eavesdrops from a safe distance.  _I did._ He thinks mournfully as he listens to Lance fume.

Pidge laughs at her friend. "This could be from literally any girl you've ever hit on."

"Or all of them." Hunk laughs. "Maybe they banded together and this is their version of a restraining order."

" _Not funny!_ " Lance shrieks. Suddenly his voice drops to barely a whisper and Keith has to strain to hear him over the noise of the other students. "...Do you really think that's what this is? Do they all hate me so much they don't want me to even talk to them?"

Keith squeezes his eyes shut. He feels sick. Not only did the note do nothing to help his own case, but now he's made Lance feel insecure.  _Great_.

He has to fix this somehow.

First bell rings and the trio scamper off to their next respective classes while Keith lingers by the lockers. He waits until the second bell sounds and the hallway is completely empty before he makes a beeline for Lance's locker. He dumps his bag on the floor, reaches in, and rips out a page from one of his notebooks. He holds the paper flat against the locker in front of him and grabs his pencil from where he keeps it tucked behind his ear. He quickly scrawls out another message and deftly slips it into the locker before he can think better of it.

He stands there a moment, regret starting to seep in, before gathering his things and running off to his Science class.

 

* * *

 

Lance has been on edge ever since he found that stupid note. It had to have been a prank, it  _had_ to. But Hunk's stupid idea that the stupid note was written by  _every single girl in collusion with one another_ just won't get out of his head. He's been so paranoid that he hasn't dared to even  _look_ at any of the girls he had been planning to ask to the dance. He's so wrapped up in his own self-misery that he almost doesn't notice the next little paper that falls out of his locker.

Lance stares down at it in horror, cautiously plucking it from the ground after a long moment of hesitation.

 

_I didn't mean to make you feel bad it's just_  
_I want to go with you but I'm too scared to ask_  
_I'm sorry  
_ _Go with whoever you want._

 

There's a good ten seconds there where Lance is sure he's stopped breathing. He breaks into a huge grin. "Huuuuuuuunk!!" he yells. He gets about three running steps down the hall before spinning around, slamming his locker shut, and spinning again to keep running. He's dizzy and unbalanced, but too excited to care.

"Hunk!" Lance yells and tackles his friend from behind.

Hunk grunts, pushing away from the water fountain and frowning down at the wet spot on his shirt. "Aw man, what the heck, Lance?"

"They're love letters!" he shouts gleefully, shoving the second note in his friend's face.

Hunk scrambles to remove the paper from his eyeballs so he can actually read it.

"It's not a restraining order, it's a  _secret admirer!_ " Lance announces, bouncing in place.

"Uhh..." Hunk scans the note again. "You sure?"

Lance clicks his tongue and jabs the paper. "Yes??  _'I want to go to the dance with you',_ how does that NOT sound like a secret admirer to you?!"

Hunk makes a a distressed noise in the back of his throat. "I don't know, man. It could still be a prank."

Lance snatches the note back with a glare.

Hunk throws his hands up. "I'm just saying!" he defends.

Lance huffs. He carefully folds the note and slips it into his pocket. " _What do you know?_ " he grumbles as he shoves past Hunk.

 

 

Lance's mood doesn't improve during Spanish, or Science, and by the time the lunch period rolls around, he still stubbornly refuses to talk to Hunk. When Pidge questions the silent treatment, her response is, " _For fuck's sake,_ " and goes to sit with Hunk instead. Lance's sourness only worsens when he returns to his locker and _still_ doesn't find any new notes.

 

"You okay?"

Lance scowls. He must look downright _miserable_  if _Keith freaking Kogane_ of all people is asking that. Lance gives him a long, suffering sigh and faceplants on the table. "Why do you even care?" he asks, voice muffled.

He hears Keith shift, but the other boy doesn't respond.

Lance sighs again and lifts his head just enough to throw his rival a half-hearted glare. Keith is sitting backwards in his chair now, facing Lance and staring at him in...concern? No, that can't be right. Regardless, Lance relents.

"I got pranked." he bemoans, head falling back down on the table with a  _thump_.

"How so?"

Lance groans. "Someone wrote me some notes pretending to be a secret admirer."

Keith seems to consider this for a long moment. "How do you know they're not?"

Lance lifts his head again. "Not what?"

"A secret admirer. Why do you think it's a prank?"

Lance shrugs helplessly. "Because?? I don't know! Because  _why me?_ Because  _who does that anymore?_ Because-Because--" Lance huffs, flailing for answers he doesn't have. "Because I didn't get another note!" The realization makes his heart sink. "Because the first one was rude and the second one was just an apology!" He slumps back onto the table with another groan. "Because  _real_ secret admirers are supposed to write you  _poetry_ and tell you how much they  _like you_." he mumbles.

"Oh." Keith says quietly.

Lance snorts and gives him a tired smirk. "But you already knew all that, right, Mullet? Bet all the girls write you _dozens_ of love letters..."

Keith fidgets awkwardly before turning back around, away from Lance. Yep, that's a Keith Conversation for ya.

 

 

Lance is Tired with a capital T, and he still has two more classes to get through before he can just go home and crash. Never has a day felt so  _long_ before, what with the roller coaster of events he's gone through. He's flying on autopilot when he dumps his art supplies in his locker on his way to English, and doesn't notice the new note until he accidentally kicks it.

Despite his wariness, his heart goes a mile a minute when he unfolds the paper and finds the same messy, scratchy handwriting as the first two notes.

 

_roses are red_  
_violets are blue_  
_I'm too chickenshit  
_ _to talk to you_ _:(_

 

A poem. It's a  _poem!_ Lance can barely contain his excitement as he dances in place, frantically looking around for one of his friends. He spots Hunk not too far away.

" _Huuuuuuuuunk!_ " his voice comes out as a strained almost-whisper. He waves the letter at his friend as Hunk turns around. "It's a poem! She wrote a poem!!"

Hunk's head bobs along with Lance's little dance as he tries to read the words on the moving paper. "That's a really bad poem."

Lance squawks indignantly and holds the letter to his chest. "No poetry written from the heart is bad!"

"That one's pretty bad."

Lance pouts, bottom lip jutting out. "That's not the point--the  _point,_ is that this  _isn't a prank!_ I really do have a secret admirer!"

Hunk's expression is doubtful but he doesn't say anything.

Lance sighs dreamily, practically melting on the spot. He holds out the paper to admire the verse again. "I still can't believe she wrote a  _poem_ for me! And I was just telling Keith that--"

"Keith?" Hunk asks, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "Why were you talking to  _Keith?_ "

Lance turns his dopey, brilliant smile to his friend. "Oh, I was bummed out last period and he asked what was wrong, and--" Lance gasps, hugging the letter close again. "Hunk! Do you know what this means?!"

Hunk eyes him cautiously. "Uhh... Do  _you_ know what this means?"

Lance rolls his eyes. " _Duh,_ it means we must be in the same class! She must've overheard me talking to Keith about her and-- _ooh!_  Do you think she'll write a love letter next? I hope she thinks I'm pretty!"

Hunk sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. " _Lance--_ "

The first bell rings before he can finish that thought, and honestly, Lance doesn't want to listen to him rain on his parade anyway, so he takes off towards his English class with a quick wave.

 

* * *

 

Keith sits hunched over his desk, chewing the eraser on his pencil as he agonizes over every word of his next note. He's written and erased so many things that there's hardly an unsmudged inch left on the page.

"He wants a love letter."

Keith startles, scrambling to throw his arms over the blank sheet of paper. His head snaps up to find Hunk standing in front of him, giving him a sort of pitying frown.

"Wh-what?" Keith rasps. "I don't--"

Hunk sighs and takes his seat diagonal to Keith. "And he wants to be called pretty, too." Keith can only gape owlishly; Hunk rolls his eyes with a soft smile. "You're not sneaky, dude. You're lucky Lance is so dense."

Keith flushes deeply, snapping his mouth shut and swallowing thickly. "Are you gonna tell him?" he asks quietly, looking down in embarrassment.

"Are you doing this just to mess with him?"

Keith shakes his head but can't bear to meet the other's eyes.

Hunk heaves a resigned sigh. "Okay then. I won't tell him."

Keith peaks up at him through his long, shaggy bangs. "You won't?"

Hunk smiles at him and Keith squirms at the kind gesture. "Nah, not my place. But if you want my two cents, you could do a lot better."

Keith huffs, cheeks flushing. "But he's so funny and sweet and nice and--what?"

Hunk is grinning at him knowingly, eyebrows raised, looking very, very amused. His gaze darts to the paper on Keith's desk. "You should write that down."

A light bulb goes off in Keith's head. " _Oh._ " He starts scribbling, scratching out the mistakes but determined to keep going.

"Don't forget to call him pretty." Hunk reminds him playfully.

 

* * *

 

 

_I like your jokes_  
_I like your eyes_  
_Your smile gives me butterflies :)_

_You're so pretty_  
_Your name is ♡Lance♡_  
_please please please don't ask anyone to the dance :(_

 

Lance's soul left his body about ten minutes ago when he found the second poem. He's in love. Those are the facts. He'll find out who this girl is and marry her and he'll be two years ahead of schedule on his Princess Plan.

"If you don't hurry up, Coach Iverson will yell at you."

Lance looks up from where he's laying on a bench in the boys locker room, clutching the newest letter to his heart, to see Keith staring at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the last of other boys run out the door to the gym, leaving him alone with Keith.

Lance lets out a huge, lovesick sigh. "He can yell all he wants." he says but gets up anyways. He carefully folds the letter and tucks it safely away in his bag before pulling out his gym clothes. "Nothing can ruin today for me." he mumbles as he starts to change.

"How come?"

Oh, Keith's still here. Lance looks over again to see the other boy standing with his back towards him. Is he...waiting for him? Lance shrugs it off, too caught up in his good mood to scrutinize his rival's behavior. He nods instead. "You were right, by the way. I do have a secret admirer."

"You got another note?"

"Two!" Lance declares happily as he finishes tugging on his gross gym shirt. "And they were both poems!" He lets out another dreamy sigh and saunters over to where Keith is still waiting for him. "I can't wait to meet her--I bet she's cute!"

He looks over only to find Keith frowning, staring off into space. Lance grins and nudges him in the side. "Jealous?"

Before Keith can say anything, Coach Iverson's voice comes booming into the locker room. "Kogane! McClain! If you're not out here in five seconds I'm marking you both absent!"

Both boys scramble out into the gym, nearly tripping over each other. The other kids giggle quietly at them as they find their spots in the lineup. Iverson has them arranged alphabetically by first name, so they're right next to each other, and usually Lance hates being in such close proximity to the other boy, but right now he's glad for it, if only so he can keep gushing to him. His secret admirer feels like a secret in and of itself, a secret only his closest friends should know about--and Keith, apparently. By sole virtue of accidentally venting to him earlier. It's weird, though. Keith isn't being his usual jerk self. He's...actually pretty easy to talk to.

"I mean, I'd be jealous if I were you." Lance continues under his breath, leaning in towards Keith while Iverson barks about the day's exercises. "She drew hearts all around my name--bet  _your_ lady admirers don't do anything half as cute."

Keith grunts in response, focus unwavering as he stares ahead at their gym teacher.

Lance's nose scrunches up with a frown. Okay, but there's a difference between  _talking_ to Keith and  _goading_ Keith. Usually the other boy is much easier to get a rise out of. "You okay, man?" he asks, surprising himself with the question.

"What do you think she'll write next?" Keith asks instead.

Lance considers this as the entire class files out of the gym and towards the track behind the school.

"She's getting braver, that's for sure." Lance thinks aloud while they stretch. "Maybe she'll ask me to the dance? She already said that she wants to, but that she's scared to. I know she doesn't want me to ask anyone else, though."

"Will you?"

Lance looks over his shoulder stretch at Keith. "Will I what?"

Keith switches shoulders. "Ask someone else."

Lance mirrors the new pose to give himself a moment to think. "I dunno." he says honestly. "I _wanted_ to ask Jenny Shaybon, but... You think Jenny S is my secret admirer?"

"Maybe." Keith says as he starts rolling his neck out.

Lance hums. Coach Iverson blows his whistle and calls them over to the starting mark for sprints. Lance stands behind Keith, happy he doesn't have to race against him, not wanting to sour his good mood with competition with his rival. Iverson blows his whistle again and the kid in front of Keith takes off. Keith steps forward to the starting line. Lance takes a step up as well.

"I think I'll wait." he says as Keith takes his mark, not sure if he's even still listening. "I wanna see if my mystery girl asks me." He considers it a moment longer. "I think I'd say yes if she did."

Iverson blows his whistle and Keith takes off like a bat out of hell. He crosses the finish line a full three seconds before either of the other runners. Lance is impressed, he's sure he just beat his own record, which means he blew Lance's personal best out of the water. He decides to not let it get to him, though, not today. In fact, Lance is going to congratulate him, but by the time Lance runs his sprint, Keith has disappeared, and he doesn't show up again for about ten minutes. By then, he's lost his order in line and Lance doesn't have a chance to talk to him after that.

 

The rest of gym class flies by and before he knows it, the dismissal bell is ringing. Keith manages to elude him still, Lance isn't even sure why that bothers him, so he tries to brush it off. He almost expects the note sitting on top of his books when he opens his locker. Lance's grin is downright manic as he carefully unfolds the note.

 

_Will you go to the dance with me?_

 

 


	2. Tuesday

There was screaming. So much screaming, and dancing, and almost missing his bus. Lance had a  _date._  To the  _dance!_ He told Mamá the whole story the second he got home. She nodded along, smiling the whole time, and despite their teasing, he could tell that even his siblings were happy for him. Now all he had to do was to find out who his mystery girl is!

 

 

Lance can not be contained the next morning. He races down the hall despite several teachers calling out at him to slow down, and skids to a halt in front of his locker, bouncing on the spot as he dials his combination with a shaky hand.

He is not disappointed.

He opens his locker and a shower of tiny paper bits falls out. He picks one up and discovers that it's actually dozens of hand-drawn hearts, each one scribbled on a torn piece of notebook paper. Lance  _squeals_  and scoops up a handful of hearts, sorting through them in the palm of his hand and smiling at each one; each is slightly different than the last, unique.

"Holy Jesus on a jet ski." Lance swivels around and is met with Pidge gawking at the mess around him. "What the  _fuck_ is all that?"

His grin doubles. "Hearts!" he cheers, grabbing two fistfuls and throwing them in the air. Pidge scowls in disgust and edges towards her locker, shoving a small pile of the confetti away with her foot. "My secret admirer who is also my date to the dance filled my locker with hearts!!"

Pidge stares at him like he's crazy.

"What the cheese."

They both turn to look at Hunk, who is also staring at the scattered paper scraps in horror.

"Hunk!" Lance practically screams as he launches himself at his friend, nearly knocking him down with the force of his hug. "She asked me to the dance and I said yes and she filled my locker with  _hearts!!_ "

Hunk nods in a daze, trying to take in the chaotic scene and the overexcited puppy in his arms. "That's great, buddy." he says and pats Lance on the back so he'll release him. "So you know who she is?"

Lance's smile falters. "Well, not  _exactly_..."

" _Criminey,_ " Pidge hisses, shaking her head as she takes a wide step over the mess to join Hunk by his locker. "How do you even know that she knows that you said yes then?"

Lance stutters a response, bending down to pick up the confetti and shove them in his backpack. "Well... I think the hearts say it all..." Pidge gives him an unimpressed look so he quickly continues before she can scold him. "B-But she must've seen my reaction! When I found her note, I mean. I know she's overheard me before, so maybe she was watching?"

"Well that's not creepy at all." Pidge deadpans.

" _Or,_ " Hunk cuts in, "you know, Lance wasn't exactly  _quiet_. I mean, I was all the way down in the art room yesterday and I heard him yelling."

Pidge tilts her head back and forth with a considerate hum. "That's true... I was outside waiting for my bus when I heard screaming, though to be fair, I just thought it was someone getting murdered."

" _Hey!_ " Lance squeaks indignantly, cheeks burning. "I was excited,  _okay?!_  A girl asked me out and you expect me to use my  _indoor_ voice?"

"You have an indoor voice?" Pidge asks in feigned shock, earning a snicker from Hunk.

First bell rings before Lance can defend himself, so he just chases after his friends as they all head towards Mr. Smythe's History class.

 

* * *

 

"So you're  _sure_ she knows you said yes?"

Keith looks up at the door just as Lance, Pidge, and Hunk enter. He quickly looks away and bites his lip to keep from smiling too obviously.

"You should, like, leave a sticky note on your locker or something." Hunk offers as he and Pidge take their seats a few rows in front of Lance. "Y'know, just to confirm."

"Well I  _know_ I have Art with her, I could just talk really loudly about it then."

"And make her wait five whole periods?" Hunk asks, pointedly glancing over at Keith.

Lance doesn't notice. He just sighs and plops down at his desk. "Yeah, you're right. Leaving a note for her is a good idea." He slides down a little further in his chair, a small pout on his lips. He turns slightly and notices Keith looking at him; his entire expression instantly brightens and he sits up, sending a swarm of butterflies through Keith. " _Mullet!_ She asked me to the dance!"

"That's great, Lance!" he chirps, smiling just as brightly and hoping his blush doesn't betray him.

"Wait,  _Keith_ knows about this?" Pidge asks, giving each boy an incredulous look.

"Oh, uh, yeah..." Lance rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yesterday I was... _bummed out,_ in Art, so I vented a little..."

Pidge narrows her eyes at Keith and he shrinks a little under her scrutinizing gaze. Her eyes flick over to Lance a moment and then back to Keith and he just  _knows_ he's been made. "Uh huh." is Pidge's only response.

Second bell rings and Mr. Smythe gets up to start class. They all settle back into their seats, but a few minutes into the lesson, Lance leans over and tries to get Keith's attention.

" _Psst! Mullet!_ "

He ignores the nickname. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for like... Not being a dick about all this."

Keith can't help the tiny smile that tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he says a little too fondly, so he adds, "I mean, I have  _hundreds_ of admirers, it's only fair you _finally_ got _one._ "

He grins as Lance kicks his desk, muttering something Keith can't quite hear but is sure was rude.

 

 

History class ends and Keith finds himself wandering out of the classroom with Lance and his friends, heading towards Lance's locker.

"Okay," Lance drops his bag on the floor. He pulls out a pen and paper. "What do I say to her?"

"Start with 'yes,' obviously." Pidge says with a roll of her eyes.

"Mmmaybe ask who she is?" Hunk says, looking over at Keith again.

Keith glares at him. He  _really_ needs to stop trying to blow his cover like that.

"Yeah yeah yeah," Lance mutters as he scrawls something on the paper. "What else? Mullet?"

"Huh?" Keith starts, looking like a deer in the headlights.

"What else should I say to her?"

_God_ , Lance is looking right at him and he's  _smiling_ , like they're  _friends_. He looks so happy it makes Keith's mouth go dry and his brain short circuit. "H-How should I know?"

Lance rolls his eyes, but like... _playfully_. "Well, you've given me nothing but solid advice on this matter so far, so I'm inclined to trust you this one time."

Keith stammers something incoherent, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Before he can get any real words out, the first warning bell goes off.

"Ah!" Lance looks up in horror. "Okay okay!" He hurriedly finishes writing his reply before folding the paper, writing 'Mystery Girl' on the outside, and tucking it into the slats of his locker. "I'll see you guys at lunch!" he calls out behind him as he runs off to his next class.

There's a long, awful, awkward moment of silence in which nobody moves.

"Well?" Pidge starts, leaning past Hunk to look directly at Keith. "Aren't you going to read it?"

Keith laughs nervously. "Wh-what? Wh-why would I--"

" _Oh please,_ " she sighs. " _This_ one--" she elbows Hunk, "-- _obviously_ knows, and since he hasn't said anything, you must have good intentions."

His eyes dart between the two and their knowing, pitying looks. "H-How..."

" _Dude._ " Hunks says like it's all that needs to be said.

"You are  _not_ subtle. Like, at all." Pidge adds.

Keith glares down at his feet, shuffling in place and gripping the straps of his backpack so tightly his knuckles start to turn white.

"It's a good thing Lance is so clueless," Pidge continues. "Now are you gonna read his stupid letter or not?"

Keith hesitates a moment longer before reaching out a trembling hand to pull the letter from the locker. "I'll read it in class." he mutters and starts down the hall. Pidge and Hunk follow him without another word.

He has Science with them next period, so not only does he get to endure their teasing for the next 40 minutes, but he also won't have a moment of peace to enjoy Lance's reply.

He sits down in his usual spot, in the very last row, except this time Pidge and Hunk sit on either side of him at the table, eagerly waiting to read the letter. Keith carefully unfolds the paper and smooths out the creases before withdrawing his hands to his lap so the others can read what was  _supposed_ to be for his eyes only.

 

_♡ ♡YES!!! ♡♡_  
_I'd LOVE!!! to go to the dance with you!!!_  
_You must know me really well already because love letters??_  
_Secret admirer?? Sooooo romantic!! ♡♡ I love it!! :D_  
_But please tell me your name! I wanna see you!_  
_And talk to you! In more than just these letters!_  
_↑↑↑ There's the bell :(   I can't wait to meet you!!_

_yours,_  
_♡Lance♡_

 

Keith is dead. Probably. His heart has either stopped, or it's beating so fast he can't feel it. At any rate, there's no way this is real. Maybe it's a dream, because he can't fathom a reality in which the words  _yours, Lance_  are actually real and written for him.

" _Aww!_ "

Keith shrinks in on himself as he remembers Hunk and Pidge are here too.

"Normally, I'd be puking my guts out at something like this but,  _wow._ You're adorable." Pidge says with a huge grin.

" _You look like a tomato!_ " Hunk coos. "I didn't think people could actually turn that color!"

Keith groans, suddenly hyper-aware of the heat in his face. His quickly refolds the letter and gingerly tucks it into one of his notebooks. "Okay, I get it. I'm stupid. Can you guys knock it off?" he mutters.

" _Noo,_ " Hunk cries in a low whisper. "We're not making fun of you, dude."

"Yeah," Pidge says softly, sounding more sincere than Keith has ever heard her before. "It's really sweet--why do you think we wanted to see the letter?"

"To...tease me?"

Pidge sighs affectionately and throws an arm around Keith's shoulders, which is quickly joined by one of Hunk's arms as well. "It's obvious how much you like him."

" _Painfully_ obvious." Hunk adds.

"So what kind of friends would we be if we didn't nurture this budding romance?"

Keith's brows furrow. "We're friends?"

Pidge gives him another over-dramatic sigh. "Keith, we've known each other since we were in _diapers_ , our brothers are best friends."

Keith makes an annoyed but conceding noise in the back of his throat. "I guess..."

One of Pidge's gentle pats to his back lands more like a slap on the back of his head. "And  _friends_ help each other out."

"So what do you get out of this?"

"Ideally?" Hunk chimes in. "Lance will only have  _one_ person to gush about instead of  _every single girl he meets._ "

"And we're just as sick of his dumb rivalry with you as I'm sure you are."

Keith deflates a little. "But... He hates me. He'd never..." He shakes his head and shrugs away their comforting hands. "This was stupid--I don't know what I was thinking--"

"Dude, hey, calm down." Hunk soothes. "Lance doesn't hate you."

"Yeah, he only  _thinks_ he hates you."

Keith gawks at her. "What does that even  _mean?_ "

Pidge's grin is maniacal. "You're smart."

"And coordinated."

"You don't care what anyone thinks of you."

"Your skin is clear as a desert sky."

"Basically?"

"Lance wants to  _be_ you." the two practically sing in unison.

"He envies the  _crap_ out of you, Keith." Pidge says.

"Yeah, the only reason he started the whole  _rivals_ thing was so he could prove that he's just as good as you." Hunk adds. "Deep down, he really admires you."

Keith fidgets in his seat, unaccustomed to and uncomfortable with praise. That can't all be true... Can it? From a purely analytical standpoint it...would certainly explain a lot, like why Lance has so easily opened up to him about this whole secret admirer thing. But...

"But he's expecting a girl." Keith mumbles, feeling that little sliver of hope be quashed just as quickly as it appeared.

Hunk and Pidge exchange an uncertain look.

"We'll... Cross that bridge when we get to it." Hunk tries, adding a hopeful tilt to his words.

Keith flashes him a small, grateful smile. They're trying, they are, but Keith knows he shouldn't have let things get this far. All he's doing is setting himself up for disappointment and ruining any chance he has of ever being actual friends with Lance.

"So," Pidge starts as she opens her Science textbook, completely tuning out whatever Mrs. Daibazaal is saying. "What're you gonna write him back?"

Keith straightens up a little at the question. "Oh, uhh..." He looks between the both of them. He  _should_ call it all off, he  _should_ just tell Lance to forget about it. But...

But here he has two unexpected  _friends_ , who actually  _care_ about him, who make him believe that maybe--just  _maybe_ \--he has a chance.

He swalllows his nerves, pulls his pencil from behind his ear, and opens his notebook. "Okay. Where do I start?"

 

* * *

_You have no idea how happy you make me_  
_But I can't tell you my name, not yet._  
_I hope you can understand_  
_And I hope these letters can be enough,_  
_at least for now_

_♡_

 

"You got a reply?"

Lance looks up; Keith is standing in front of him. Lance nods with a sigh, stretching out further across his desk, his newest letter held at arms length. "Yeah..."

Keith takes his seat in the desk next to his. "...Is it bad?" he asks cautiously.

Lance tilts his head with a crooked frown and a small grumble. "No... Not exactly..." With another sigh, he pushes himself upright and slides the letter closer. "It's just... She won't tell me her name." He frowns at the letter, reading it over once more even though he's read it at least a dozen times already. He glances at Keith and is surprised to find him peering over curiously at the paper. Without much thought, Lance passes the letter to him.

Keith's eyes widen but he accepts it with both hands. Lance is oddly grateful that he doesn't manhandle it. "Maybe she's still scared?" Keith offers after a moment.

Lance groans dramatically and flops over his desk once more. "But why! She already asked me out and I said yes! What's there to be scared of?"

Keith chews his lip as he considers it. "Maybe she's worried you won't like her if you know who she is..."

Lance huffs and takes the letter as Keith passes it back. He frowns down at it. "But I won't! I mean--I'll like her no matter who she is or what she looks like because--because..." He stares down at the letter, at the first line. "...She says I make her happy, and that's...enough, y'know?"

Lance looks over and smiles at Keith's befuddled expression.

"Love is... Love is putting someone else first. Love means  _their_ happiness is  _your_ happiness." He turns his smile back to the letter and traces the heart with his finger. "I make her happy..." he repeats under his breath. "That's all I want."

"You, uh," Lance looks over and snorts; Keith is staring very determinedly at his Spanish textbook, pointedly avoiding eye contact, face redder than a ripe tomato. He clears his throat. "You should probably tell her that. I-In your next letter."

" _Aww, Mullet!_ " Lance coos teasingly. "I didn't know you had a soft side! Who knew you were so  _squishy_ underneath all those nasty, prickly layers." Keith shoots him an icy glare; Lance laughs harder. "I bet you like daytime dramas too!"

" _Ugh!_ " Keith huffs and turns away, propping his head in his hand so Lance can't see his face anymore. "It's just-- _sweet_ , okay?! I'm not  _that_ heartless." he grumbles.

Lance gets a few more giggles in before Ms. Plaxum calls him out to pay attention, effectively shutting him down. It does not, however, keep him from spending the entire class working on his next letter.

 

* * *

 

 

_I understand._  
_As much as I want to meet you,_  
_I want it to be on your terms_  
_You've already made me so so happy_  
_I don't want you to feel pressured ♡_  
_But I do want to know more about you!_  
_If that's alright!!_  
_It doesn't have to be your name or even_  
_what you look like._  
_What's your favorite color? Favorite class?_  
_I want to know everything there is to know_  
_about you!!_

_♡♡♡_  
_Lance_

 

"Uhh... You okay there, buddy?"

Keith nods from where he has his face pressed against his desk, Lance's letter held tightly to his chest. Hunk lets out a fond sigh and sits down next to him. Without him asking, Keith hands him the letter.

There's a long pause while Hunk reads it. "...Wow. I didn't think Lance could be so... _mature._ "

Keith makes a grabby hand at Hunk for him to give the letter back. He sits up properly, and judging by Hunk's soft little noise, figures he must be blushing again. " _Told_ you he was sweet." he rasps quietly, unable to rein in his smile, despite how much his cheeks ache. "A-And he had this whole speech about, about how  _love_ is the other person's happiness..."

"He talked to you about this?  _Again?_ " Keith nods; Hunk lets out a low whistle. "See, I told you he doesn't hate you."

Keith's heart seizes up and his smile finally falls away. "He will, though..."

Hunk sighs, propping his head in his hand and giving Keith an exasperated smile. "He won't."

"B-But--"

"He  _won't_." Hunk insists. "Lance is an idealist; a hopeless romantic. His idea of love is what you'd see in a Disney movie, and it sounds like he's already given you his spiel about love and happiness and  _blah blah blah._ " Hunk smiles at him, warm and reassuring. "Look, I know it's scary, and I don't know how he'll feel about... _y'know,_ but what I  _do_ know, is that he's not _that_ kind of person. Even if he won't feel the same way, he won't  _hate_ you for it."

Keith's smile is grateful, if wobbly. His face feels hot as he scrubs his eye with the heel of his hand, just barely holding back tears. It is scary, it's  _really_ scary. He's never really talked to anyone about liking boys before, but Hunk and Pidge are so... _cool_ about it.

"Thanks," he sniffles quietly.

Hunk beams at him. "No problem, dude." He glances back at the letter still on his desk. "So, what next?"

 

 

After English, Keith follows Hunk to the cafeteria, where Lance intercepts them halfway there. He squeezes between them and throws an arm around each of their shoulders, a huge smile on his face.

"Got another letter I take it?" Hunk asks, grinning over at Keith and knowing full well that he had excused himself during English with the pretense of using the restroom just so he could deliver his next note.

"Did I!" Lance chirps, letting go of both boys in favor of rifling through his backpack. He hands the note to Hunk first.

" _Pfft, lame!_ " he snorts and passes the note to Keith.

Keith tries not to smile too hard as he reads his own writing.

 

_I'm working on another poem but I'm really bad at it_  
_and it takes me a long time to write, so for now:_  
_I really like Art, and Science, but not Mrs. D, she's mean. >:P_  
_And I always thought red was my favorite color_  
_but then I met you, and now it's blue, like your eyes ♡_

 

"It's not lame!" Lance screeches, shoving Hunk. He takes the letter back from Keith and tucks it in his pocket. "It's _sweet!_ She didn't have to leave me another note if she's working on something longer, but she didn't want me to think she was ignoring me!" Lance sighs dreamily, falling heavily against Hunk and body-checking him into a locker. "And she likes my eyes!"

Keith chuckles, hoping it sounds more casual and far less giddy than he feels. "Didn't she already tell you that, though?"

Lance pouts, letting up on Hunk. "She did, yeah, but there's a difference between  _liking_  them and liking them so much it  _switches her favorite color!_ "

" _Ugh,_ " Hunk makes a gagging noise, "you're both  _gross_  and clearly deserve each other."

Lance gives an indignant squawk and tries to shove Hunk again.

"Hey losers, what're we talking about?" Pidge greets as she jogs to catch up with them.

"Lance's secret admirer likes his eyes so much that they're her favorite color."

" _Gross._ "

" _It's not gross!_ " Lance's voice breaks, face flushed pink to the tips of his ears. "You two just don't understand what  _romance_ is!!"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." Hunk says, rolling his eyes to land on Keith with a knowing smirk.

Keith has to bite back a grin. He sees what they're doing. They're purposefully antagonizing Lance to get him to gush about him, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying listening to his crush defend him.

"I'm sure Mullet here agrees with me!"

Keith startles, eyes going wide. "What?"

Lance slips an arm around his and pulls him close; Keith feels his soul leave his body. "Yeah, it turns out that underneath all his  _smelly smelly_ onion layers, he's actually a squishy teddy bear!"

Lance laughs, even as Keith jabs him with a sharp elbow to force him to let go. "See?" Lance gasps, winded but no less amused. "He's blushing because it's true!"

_Ugh,_ Keith  _is_ blushing again, isn't he? He curses his pale complexion and starts to stalk off but Lance catches his arm.

"Hey hey, where you going, Mullet? Aren't you going to sit with us?"

Keith blinks at him, stunned. Lance hates him, Lance usually shoos him away if he's even sitting within two tables of him at lunch. And now he... _wants_ him to sit with him. He's  _asking_ him to stay.

Keith swallows the lump in his throat. "Uh, s-sure?"

Lance grins and practically drags him to their usual table, Pidge and Hunk right behind them, obviously biting their tongues in glee. Lance tries to push him into the seat next to him but thankfully Pidge rescues him, pulling him away to the lunch line. Lance actually pouts.

"Soo..." Pidge starts once they're out of earshot of the others. "Seems like it's going well."

Keith can't help but smile, absently playing with his lunch money, unable to meet Pidge's smug face as he nods.

She grins. "Good! That's good! Where are we with revealing your identity?"

Keith's heart sinks. "Umm," He tries to stay positive, replaying Hunk's pep talk, but his doubt and fear still rear their ugly heads. He swallows thickly. "Getting there..." he tries weakly.

Pidge gives him a sympathetic smile and a gentle pat on the back. "Don't sweat it, you still have, like, three days." She laughs. "Hell, you don't even have to tell him until you're  _at_ the dance!"

It's a joke. She's obviously joking. Keith gulps and laughs along with her, but in the back of his mind, he's plotting how he could make that work. If he waited until the dance itself, that'd give him  _way_ more time to work up his courage. He wouldn't have to worry about coming out until The Big Moment. That's romantic, right? A big, grand, romantic gesture?

It's settled. Keith gets to work as soon as he and Pidge get back to the table, styrofoam lunch trays in hand.

"What's that?" Lance asks with a mouthful of sandwich.

Keith glares at him and tilts his notebook further out of the other boy's line of sight. "English homework."

Lance scoffs, spewing bread crumbs. "It's called  _home_ work for a reason."

Keith doesn't bother to look up as he lightly replies, "Some of us actually _care_ about our GPAs, McClain."

Lance squawks and chokes on his sandwich; Pidge and Hunk  _ooooh_ at him while he coughs. " _Ugh!_ You're such a-a,  _smelly prickly onion!_ " he shouts.

Keith smirks, still scribbling away at the letter, oddly invigorated knowing Lance is  _right there_. "Who's apparently squishy on the inside."

Lance puffs up, face turning red as he struggles for a comeback. " _That just means you're rotten!!_ " he shrieks.

Hunk and Pidge are losing their _damn minds_  across the table, and Keith...

Keith bursts out laughing.

Lance is obviously caught off guard by this reaction, but Keith can't help it. He's laughing so hard he's doubled over, gasping and snorting.

"Okay, that--that was actually  _clever._  Nice one!" he laughs, finally catching his breath.

Lance can only stare, expression stuck somewhere between disbelief and amazement; face even redder than it was before.

"Uh oh," Pidge grins wickedly, "I think you broke him."

Lance shakes himself out of his stupor. " _Shut up._ " he hisses, turning back to his lunch. He plops his head in his hand and hunches his shoulders.

Keith is a little too high on a lack of oxygen to think much of Lance's grumpiness. With one last giggle, he gathers up his stuff and stands. "I gotta head to the library--I'll see you guys later! I'll see you in class, Lance!" He waves goodbye, with adrenaline pumping through his veins and a spring in his step.

Hunk and Pidge wave him off with a waggle of their fingers. "Byeee Keeeith~" they sing, grinning at Lance.

 

* * *

 

Lance tries not to dwell on what happened at lunch. He'd just never heard Keith laugh before, _okay?_  He tells himself that the funny twisting in his stomach was due to being  _complimented_ by his _rival_. Keith doesn't usually admit defeat so easily, least of all with commendations. He must be up to something.

Before Lance can try to work out his nefarious plot, though, he's opening his locker to another letter from his mystery girl and forgets all about stupid Keith.

 

_You make me laugh, you make me smile,_  
_You're my favorite person by a mile ♡_  
_I know I'm shy, that much is true,_  
_But anything I could, I'd do for you_  
_If I could be, for a moment, bold,_  
_Just your hand I'd ask to hold_  
_My name to you I can't reveal_  
_But our date I long to seal_  
_This Friday night, I'll come along_  
_When they play the first slow song_  
_Worth the wait, I hope to be,_  
_Please won't you save that dance for me?_

_♡♡♡_

 

 

* * *

 

Lance is late.

Keith drums his fingers on the table, trying and failing not to keep looking over at the clock. Okay, so class hasn't  _technically_ started yet, but second bell is about to go off and Lance still isn't--

Oh, there he is.

Lance is barely in the door when the bell rings. Luckily Ms. Ryner doesn't notice, too preoccupied with finishing something on her computer. Lance looks flushed and out of breath, but his expression is schooled into something stoic. It takes Keith completely by surprise when he sits down on the stool next to his instead of his normal seat at the next table back.

"Uhh," Keith says intelligently, watching as the other boy remains uncharacteristically quiet. "Lance?"

Lance drops a notebook on the table with a loud  _plap_ , and flings it open. He plants both fists on the table, pen held tightly in one hand, and takes a deep breath. "Somewhere in this room..." he starts, voice low. "...is my future wife."

...

Keith snorts, slapping a hand over his mouth, but still unable to stop the relieved laughter from slipping out. For a second there, he thought he'd messed up everything but  _nope._ Lance is just  _dramatic._

"I'm serious!" the other boy whines, expression finally breaking.

"You got another letter?" Keith manages.

"Not a letter--a  _marriage proposal._ "

Oh, he shouldn't be laughing. He really shouldn't be laughing at him, but the butterflies have taken to tickling his insides and it's all Keith can do to at least hide his smile.

Lance blushes, eyes sparkling. "She's going to wait until the dance to introduce herself. I mean," he slides a slightly shaky hand through his short hair, "that's so--so-- _romantic!_ "

Keith grins into the palm of his hand, trying very, very hard not to interrupt.

"She wrote a  _poem_ , and-and called the dance a  _date!_ " Lance sighs and slides down in his seat. He holds both hands over his heart as he practically melts. "She  _begged_ me to  _save a dance_ for her! She says she'll show herself during the first slow dance, I--" He nearly falls off of his stool as he slips further down, head thrown back with a long, lovestruck noise. "My mystery girl is Cinderella!"

Keith finally pulls his hand away from his mouth. "I don't think that's how that story goes."

Lance gives him an exasperated frown, but it doesn't have any heat behind it. He shimmies back up into a sitting position and picks up his pen again. " _Anyway,_ she's romantic and mysterious and  _I'm gonna marry her._ "

Keith bites his cheek to keep from grinning. "You haven't even met her yet."

"And therein lies the problem!" Lance announces, pointing his pen in Keith's face. "As amazing and romantic as it'll be to finally meet her during the first slow dance, that won't stop me from trying to deduce her identity until then!"

Some of Keith's mirth drains away. "And how're you gonna do that?"

Lance grins and clicks his pen a few times. "I'm glad you asked, Mullet. I already know that she's in  _this_  Art class, so that significantly narrows down the list of possibilities." He starts numbering down the lines of his notebook. "There are eleven girls in class, so in theory, she should be one of them."

Keith outright frowns as Lance starts writing down names, occasionally glancing around the room at their classmates.

Lance laughs under his breath. "Unfortunately, Jenny S isn't in our class, so that rules her out, but--" He circles one of the names and draws a few hearts next to it, "--Jenny Baker  _is._ "

Keith watches as Lance looks up and meets Jenny's eyes across the room. She tilts her head, questioning. Lance flashes her a wide (and frankly dashing), smile; she smiles back. Keith feels sick.

"A strong maybe..." Lance mutters as he keeps writing. "Let's see... Natasha was absent yesterday, so it can't be her... And Rebecca's been out with Strep since last week..." He crosses both names off the list. "Rani has been dating Jake since fifth grade..." Another name crossed out. "And I think Bonnie and Marcy are dating each other?" He puts both names in parenthesis and surrounds them with question marks.

Keith swallows dryly as Lance's list grows ever smaller.

"Okay, so besides Jenny, that leaves..." He taps his pen against the notepad. "Phoebe, Betty, Susan, Fiona, and Simone."

Lance admires his work; Keith regards it with a growing sense of guilt.

"Six. My future wife could be any of these six girls." He looks up with a grin and winks over at Jenny B; she and her friends break into a fit of giggles. "Or just one in particular."

Keith stares down at his lap, eyes unfocused and hands curled tightly into the fabric of his shorts. He takes deep, slow breaths through his nose; something Shiro taught him to help him calm down.

This is bad.

No, this is  _stupid._

_What_ was he thinking?! What did he  _expect!?_ Now Lance has  _specific_ hopes for Keith to shatter. What's he gonna do, huh? Friday night, the first slow dance, what's Lance going to do when Keith walks up to him? What does Keith even _say?_   _'Hi, I know you wanted Jenny Baker but surprise! It's me, that asshole you hate'_? He should never have left that first note. Keith should have just left well enough alone and been content with watching his crush go to the dance with someone else. Why did he have to be so, so--

_Selfish?_

"You okay?"

Keith looks up with a start; Lance is frowning at him.

"You look pale. Like, more than usual."

With great effort, Keith manages a small nod and a strained smile. "Yeah, yeah I'm...fine. Kinda nauseous. Must've been something I ate."

Lance wrinkles his nose and-- _honestly_. How dare he have the audacity to be adorable right now. "Man, that cafeteria food is  _nasty_. That's why I always bring a packed lunch."

Keith forces a small laugh as he gathers his things and gets up. He shuffles over to Ms. Ryner and asks to go to the nurse's office. As he's leaving, he glances back; Lance is watching him with a small frown, still looking genuinely concerned. Keith gives him a reassuring smile.

That facade is dropped the second the door closes behind him, though. With one last deep breath, Keith very calmly walks to the nearest restroom, locks himself in a stall, and finally let's go.

" _Stupid._ " he hisses wetly, the first tears slipping down his cheek. He presses the heel of his hand into his forehead, and when that's not enough, he punctuates each word with sharp knock to his skull. " _Stupid stupid **stupid**!_ " He hiccups over an ugly sound, heart beating away loudly and painfully. His whole body aches, head pounding. All he feels is  _panic_. He just keeps-- _digging_ himself deeper into this hole. He doesn't know how to get out, he doesn't know how to go  _forward_. Does he keep writing Lance notes? Knowing full well that he's not Jenny Baker? Does he just  _tell_ Lance that? Just, keep on pretending to be  _a_ girl, just not _explicitly_ Jenny?

Keith beats his head against the stall divider and groans. He can't just, _take it all back_ , not now. If he goes silent, he'll  _destroy_ Lance, but if he keeps pretending to be something he's not, he's just going to keep breaking his own heart.

Keith sighs, long and deep, and slumps against the wall. He's exhausted. He just wants to curl up in his bed and forget all about this. He looks down at the crumpled hall pass in his hand. Maybe he will go to the nurse's office, if only so he can lay down until next period...

 

* * *

 

Keith doesn't come back.

Art drags on and on, but Keith never returns from the nurse. He hopes he's okay. It's too quiet without him. He...  _Ugh._ He  _misses_ Keith.

No,  _no._ He misses having someone to  _talk_ to. Lance's schedule sucks--he only has History, English, and lunch with his friends. That's five whole classes he usually spends alone. Except... He has three of those classes with Keith, and normally they never exchange a civil word, but Keith's been, like, actually  _cool_ lately.

_Uuuuugggghhhhh._

_Fine._

Lance misses Keith.

He tucks his newest letter into his locker on his way to English. Normally he'd be all sunshine-and-rainbows excited to leave a note for his admirer, but all his brain can be bothered to think about is  _Keith._

 

"Who shit in your cereal?"

Lance lifts his head up to look at Pidge. Her eyes go wide and she presses her lips into a thin line. He wonders if he looks as crappy as he feels. Actually, he doesn't care. He drops his head back down onto his arms.

"Yikes," she says flatly but carefully. "Did your cat die or something?"

"Are you feeling okay?" Lance asks, voice high and strained.

"Yeah...?"

Lance huffs, finally sitting up. "Keith got sick and went to the nurse last period."

Pidge just stares, nodding in acknowledgment.

"And he didn't come back to class!" he exclaims, falling over his desk again. "And you and him both had the mystery meatloaf!" He sighs and covers his head with his arms, speaking directly into his desk. "I just wonder if he's okay..."

Pidges sighs affectionately. "I'm sure Keith's fine. Not everyone can have my gut of steel..." Lance peeks up at her just enough to see her grin; he gives her a small, grateful smile. "But enough about Keith!" Pidge decides. She slaps her desk in a drum roll. "Tell me what's new with your secret whatever!"

Lance sits up, feeling a bit lighter, but mind still plagued with thoughts of his rival. "It's uh," he rubs his neck nervously, "it's going good." His smiles grows warmer and more sincere as he thinks about the last letter he got. "She says she'll approach me during the first slow dance on Friday."

Pidge nods sagely. " _Noice._ Anything else?"

"Oh, uh yeah, actually." He pulls out his notebook and hands it to Pidge. "I thought I'd trying narrowing my search to the girls in my Art class. What d'ya say?" He gives Pidge a lopsided smile. "Any of them look suspicious?"

Pidge hums as she studies the list. "You know, that's actually pretty smart."

Lance beams.

"But you overlooked an important possibility."

He falls into a pouty frown. "And what's that?"

Instead of answering, Pidge takes out her phone and taps out a quick text. Before Lance can even ask, he feels his own phone vibrate in his pocket.

 

[Pidgeon]: OMG!! Guess what Lance said about you!!!

 

Lance groans as realization sets in. "She might not _be_ in my class..." Well, so much for that idea.  _Ugh_ , he feels like he just got sent back to square one.

"Aww, chin up, Buck'o!" Pidge punches him in the arm, playfully but still too hard. "Now the whole dramatic slow dance thing will  _definitely_ be all sappy and romantic--just the way you like it!"

Lance manages a weak smile. "Yeah... _Yeah!_ " He puffs up a bit, regaining some of his bravado. "It doesn't matter who she is! And her entrance will just be that much more spectacular with a little bit of mystery!"

Pidge snorts. " _There's_ my Romeo." she snickers, hitting send on another text.

 

* * *

 

"Pidge just ran interference for you."

Keith squeezes his eyes shut. Despite his protests, the nurse kicked him out at the end of last period, so he just wants to do this math worksheet, survive Gym, and go home.

He grunts a response at Hunk.

"Lance made a list of all the girls in your guys' Art class?"

"Yep." Keith grumbles, pressing his pencil a little harder than strictly necessary into his paper.

Hunk hums, still scrolling through what is presumably an absurdly long text. "Jenny Baker is in your Art class?"

" _Yeah._ " Keith all but snarls. His chest constricts and he has to try very,  _very_ hard to focus on these dumb equations.

"Cripes, there's only six eligible girls--"

Keith's pencil lead snaps. " _Yes,_ Hunk! There's only six girls and Jenny _fucking_ Baker is one of them! So maybe just _drop it_ and let me work, okay!?"

"Hey, hey! Calm down! I'm on your side, remember?" Hunk raises both his hands in surrender. Keith growls and turns back to his worksheet, only feeling worse for having snapped at him. "And Pidge has your back--she sorted it all out, okay? Everything's fine."

Keith groans and rakes a hand through his long hair. " _How_ is it fine? How can  _any_ of this be fine?! Lance wants a  _girl_ , he wants someone  _pretty_  and  _romantic_  and-- _not me._ " He sighs, stomach twisting. He smooths both hands over his head in a weak attempt to fix his messed up hair. "I just..." He hates the way his voice breaks, like he's going to lose it and start  _crying_ again. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know _why_ I even..." He sighs in defeat, slumping forward on his elbows, face in his hands.

"Hey, c'mon." Hunk soothes, and suddenly there's a warm hand on his back. "The heart wants what the heart wants, y'know?"

Keith scoffs. "Yeah well, my heart's  _dumb bitch_."

Hunk unsuccessfully bites back a snort; Keith can't help but smile a little. "Look," Hunk clears his throat, "Lance just...needs to get to know you--the  _real_ you.  _And,_ " he says sharply, cutting off Keith before he can be interrupted, "you can still stay anonymous. Just... _talk_ to him. Let him get to know you. Poetry and compliments are great and all, but let Lance fall for  _you_ , not the  _idea_ of you."

Keith smiles,  _really_ smiles at Hunk, not trusting his voice to convey his gratitude with words.

Hunk clutches his chest with a comically pained expression. " _Hey now,_ who are you trying to seduce here!"

Keith laughs, the sound light. He hasn't felt this confident since...ever, actually.

Hunk throws his other hand against his forehead and wilts across his desk. "Stop!  _Stop!_ I surrender!  _Ugh!_  Farewell, Shay! My heart belongs to Keith now!"

Keith presses a hand to his mouth to try to stifle his giggling. "Who's Shay?"

Hunk goes a little rigid. "Oh, uhh..." He quickly removes himself from his desk and sits back in his chair, cheeks dusted a sweet pink. "Just... A girl, I know, from Science Camp."

"A  _girl_ , huh?" Keith teases, grinning at the other boy. "I thought you and Pidge..."

" _What? Noo!_ " Hunk squeaks. "Pidge is like, my evil twin." On cue, Hunk's phone lights up and vibrates a few inches across his desk. He sighs lovingly, smile still firmly in place. "Speak of the devil..." he mutters.

Keith smiles to himself. He didn't know that about Hunk. Or Pidge. Heck, he doesn't know anything about anybody, apparently, which means Lance knows even  _less_ about him. Maybe Hunk is on to something with this whole _just talking_ thing...

Hunk snorts loudly, drawing Keith's attention. " _Oh my God,_  now Lance thinks it might be a  _seventh grader._ " he laughs, flashing Keith his and Pidge's text conversation.

Actually, that gives Keith an idea...

 

* * *

 

Lance takes good care of his face. He moisturizes, he exfoliates--he knows frowning will give him wrinkles before he's thirty, but  _damn it._  He can't help the dismayed horror that cuts and creases every single one of his features.

His note.

It's still sticking out of his locker.

He swallows thickly, trying like hell to keep his quivering lip in check. But...

She didn't read it.

Or she did and she hated it so she put it back.

He doesn't understand, did he do something wrong? Is she mad at him?

Lance opens his locker with a shaky breath: no new note is waiting for him either. He bites his lip and exchanges his textbooks for gym clothes, quickly shutting his locker again.

It's like it's taunting him.

He briefly contemplates leaving his letter there, but if she hasn't read it by now...

Lance snatches the letter and stuffs it in his bag, turning on his heel and walking at a brisk pace towards the gym. He'll just write her a new letter, and apologize for whatever he did. Maybe she'll leave something for him while he's in class. And if she doesn't...

He stops in his tracks and takes a deep breath.

He'll just be miserable forever and die alone,  _no big deal._

Lance's thoughts are derailed by someone colliding with his back, making him stumble forward. He twists around to see who walked into him.

His heart skips a beat.

" _Fuck_ , sorry I--"

"Mullet!" he cries, rocking forward and just barely nipping the bizarre impulse to hug the other boy. "You're okay!"

Keith blinks at him, surprise melting into confusion. "Uh...yeah? Why wouldn't--"

"You never came back to class!" Lance blurts. "I thought you were dead! Done in by the meatloaf!"

Keith snorts, failing to hide a smile and-- _um,_ has Lance never seen him smile before either??

"Sorry to disappoint." he says teasingly-- _teasingly_ , like they're  _friends._

Lance's heart is doing all sorts of funny things right now, but he chalks it up to a weird combination of relief and excitement. Keith starts walking again and Lance falls into step beside him, completely forgetting about his mystery girl woes.

"Are you sure you're feeling better? You looked really sick in Art..."

Keith hums. "Nothing a little upchucking couldn't fix." He smirks at Lance.

Lance giggles. " _Gross._ "

They make it to the locker room and get changed. As per typical Keith fashion, he doesn't have a lot to say unless Lance engages him first, but even during the lulls in conversation it's...nice. Lance was right, Art was  _way_ too quiet without Keith around, and even with Pidge to pester in English, it just wasn't the same. As it turns out, he and Keith are actually capable of getting along without insulting each other.

 

"Alright, cadets!" Coach Iverson barks, his former drill sergeant showing. He must be pissed about something. "It is  _seventy-seven_ degrees out there, with  _eight-y-three-per-cent_ humidity. You know what that means." The entire class groans. "Class will be  _indoors_ to-day." He comes to a halt at the center of the line-up. "And we will be running suicide drills!"

Lance squawks. Even Keith looks exhausted already.

"Less whining, more hustle! Move! Move! Move!" Coach blows his whistle for a solid, ear-splitting 20 seconds, until the entire class is lined up against one wall. Lance makes sure to be in the same line as Keith as Iverson goes over the drill,  _definitely_ not wanting to have to run against him today.

"This has to qualify as child abuse." he mutters lowly to Keith while the first kids start running. "There's no air conditioning in here! How is the stuffy gym any better than outside?"

"Heat stroke." Keith replies, grimacing as the current runners are already slowing down and dripping with sweat. "Closer proximity to the water fountains?"

Lance grumbles in response. The whistle blows and they're one step closer to running.

"But I mean, it's  _summer._ There's a  _pool_. Why aren't we swimming?"

Keith shrugs, trying to tuck his bangs behind his ears only for them to keep falling in his face.

"Here," Lance digs around in his pocket and pulls out a wad of hair ties. He hands the tangled mess to Keith.

The other boy sputters, and Lance realizes he won't have enough time to extract a single tie before it's his turn, so just as the whistle sounds, signaling for Keith to start running, Lance gently pushes him aside and takes his place.

_This sucks._ He thinks as he dashes to the foul line.  _This **really** sucks!!_

On his way back to the start, he sees Keith has managed to unravel the ties. He sprints for half court, turns, and makes his way back.

Keith suddenly has a ponytail.

Lance can feel his blood pounding in his ears.

He turns again, racing to the far end of the gym, miscalculates, and collides with the padded wall. Trying to retain at least some of his momentum, he pushes off just as quickly and heads back. He's panting hard now.

Keith's hair is now pulled back with a green headband.

Lance stumbles; Keith catches him, righting his balance and guiding him to the wall in one smooth movement. Lance falls onto the cool surface, turns, and slides down, legs aching and lungs burning. Belatedly, he realizes Iverson doesn't blow the whistle again until he's been sitting there for a good minute.

He watches Keith run. He's like a goddamn professional, running low to the ground and pivoting expertly on each turn. Normally, Lance wouldn't watch, as it'd just make him jealous, but maybe it's because he went first today, or maybe because he's hot and tired and in pain, or maybe it's the way Keith's ponytail bobs with each step, but Lance can only find it in himself to be impressed.

Keith finishes his sprint and slows to a jog as he approaches. He comes to a stop at the wall and slides down next to Lance.

"Good job, man." Lance pants. He gives Keith a weak thumbs-up.

Keith laughs, the sound breathless and a little hysterical. "I should be saying that to  _you_." He tilts his head to face Lance and grins. Little flyaway hairs stick to his sweaty forehead and suddenly all the air sticks in Lance's throat. "You were amazing--I've never seen you run that fast."

Lance swallows hard, not entirely sure the heat in his face is from the sweltering gym. "Y-Yeah, well," he stutters, "puberty gave me these long-ass legs, guess I finally figured out how to use them."

Keith laughs; Lance can't help but grin. "Oh, here." He tries to hand back the remaining hair ties.

Lance shakes his head and holds up a hand. "Keep 'em."

"You sure?" Lance nods. Keith shrugs and tucks them back in his pocket. "Thanks. Why do you even have these?"

"Pidge had long hair, 'till she decided to cut it all off last summer. Used to carry them around for her. Guess I never got rid of 'em."

"'M glad you didn't." Keith laughs again. He reaches back and bats at his ponytail, making it bounce. "This is  _so_ much better, I can't believe I never thought of it before."

They both laugh. Lance is finally starting to cool down, but his heart is still going a mile a minute. Must be the adrenaline.

 

By the end of class, they've both run half a dozen drills, Coach Iverson has screamed himself hoarse, and at least two kids took falls bad enough to warrant a trip to the nurse's office. All in all though, not the worst Gym class Lance's ever had. He thought he'd be drop-dead exhausted by now, but he's actually feeling more awake than he has all day. Doesn't make him want to run drills with Iverson every day, but still.

His good mood is snuffed out the second he opens his locker, though.

There's a note. Sitting on top of his books.

His breath catches. He'd forgotten. He remembers his last note now, and how it never got delivered. He swallows hard, unsure if he wants to reopen this stress bomb. Who's he kidding? Of course he does.

He reaches out a trembling hand and picks up the note. He takes a deep breath before unfolding it.

 

_575-555-5466_

 

 


	3. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit (09/06/2018): After s7/the Lance book, it's come to my attention that I got Luis and Marco backwards, so I tweaked that minor detail. I'm not adding in Rachel just for simplicity's sake.  
> Also decided to un-italicize the text conversations.

[Lancey Lance]: Secret admirer?

[5755555466]: Hi

 

Lance slaps a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. He crowds himself into his locker. He's not really sure why, but it feels like the right thing to do, to keep this secret hidden, even though no one is looking, or cares. The brightness of his phone screen in the dark sure is a strain on his eyes, though.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Hi :))))))  
[Lancey Lance]: Ummm  
[Lancey Lance]: How do I know it's really you?

 

She's typing.

Lance feels like his heart is going to explode. He can't keep still, practically vibrating in place, hands shaking. He's so nervous! Or excited. Can he be both?

 

[5755555466]: You can't I guess.  
[5755555466]: But I am  
[5755555466]: I could try to prove it if you don't trust me

 

Lance squeals and accidentally smacks his head against his locker. "Ow." he mutters, rubbing the bump gingerly.

 

[5755555466]: Are you okay?

 

He's halfway through typing a dismissal when it hits him. Lance shoots backwards out of his locker and spins around. He frantically searches the crowded hallway.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Can you see me right now????

 

He rises up on his toes, easily seeing above the sea of heads. It's no use though--almost everyone has their phone in hand. Lance's heart slams against his ribs. Is it creepy? That she's watching him from somewhere nearby? The other kids start filtering out towards the buses. He gives the dwindling crowd another once over before setting back down on his heels. No...  _No,_ she's  _not_ creepy, she's just really, really, _really_ shy.

And she hasn't replied.

Lance falls against his locker with a groan.  _Great._  He scared her off.

 

[Lancey Lance]: I'm sorry!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I trust you!  
[Lancey Lance]: And I'm okay. Thank you :)))

 

A door slams shut, echoing loudly down the hall, and Lance realizes the last of the other students have finally left, leaving him very much alone. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's vaguely aware that the buses will be leaving soon and if he misses his, Mamá will kill him.

With a defeated sigh, he finishes packing up his homework and closes his locker. He dashes down the hall but before he can make it outside, his phone chimes.

 

[5755555466]: Good. Can't have you damaging that pretty head of yours.

 

Lance's giddy grin splits his face clean in half. Buses and maternal rage be damned, he quickly updates her contact info before rushing off.

 

[Mystery Girl♡]

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Keith can count on one hand the number of times he hasn't been first to class, and that number is zero. None. A closed fist. So imagine his surprise when, before he can even open the door to the History classroom, someone snags him by the backpack and drags him backwards.

"Lance?!" he yelps.

" _Shhhh! Mullet!_ " Lance whispers back excitedly.

" _Why are we whispering?_ " Keith asks, whispering.

Lance grins maniacally, taking Keith by the hand and leading him down the hall in a low crouch. He stops at an empty classroom near his locker and herds them into the small recess by the door. He peers around the corner carefully. "Okay," he starts, still in a low voice.

Keith rolls his eyes and stands up straight. "What're you doing?" he asks in a normal voice that, actually, sounds way too loud now.

Lance's eyes bug out and he waves his arms frantically. " _Shhh! Shh! Sh!! This is a covert operation, Mullet! You're gonna ruin our cover!!_ "

Keith plants his hands on his hips and just stares, unimpressed.

Lance pouts, but relents. " _Ugh, fine._ " He stands up and brushes off his pants. He peaks around the corner again. "We're gathering intelligence."

Keith quirks an eyebrow but doesn't say anything.

It takes another moment for Lance to look back and see his unamused expression; he makes another exasperated little noise, shoulders sagging. "Mystery Girl gave me her phone number." he admits.

Keith is very proud of his poker face.

Lance looks away again. "But how do I  _know_ it's her, you may ask? Well, we agreed that she'd leave me another note--with a secret message--"

"That doesn't make any sense. Couldn't the person who left the phone number just--"

" _Up Bup Bup!_ " Lance chides, waving a hand back at him. "Oh ye of little faith and bad haircuts." Keith clicks his tongue in annoyance. " _Obviously_ I thought of that. I knew that I'd need to ask her something only _she_ would know."

"Which is..?"

Lance turns around with another dazzling grin. "I'm glad you asked, Mullet. Y'see, I never  _showed_ anybody her last note."

"Which one was that? The--what did you call it-- _marriage proposal?_ "

Keith delights in the pretty pink that dust Lance's cheeks. "Yeah, that one." he squeaks. Lance turns around and Keith can't hold back his grin any longer. The other boy clears his throat. "So since no one else has seen it, only she and I know exactly what it says."

"Wow, I'm actually impressed." Lance whips around to throw a brief glare at him; Keith just grins wider. "So what was this secret question, then?"

" _'You make me laugh, you make me smile, you're my favorite person by a mile.'_ " Lance recites. Keith doesn't need anyone calling him a tomato to know that he's blushing,  _hard_. Writing it is one thing, but hearing Lance say it back makes him so nauseous he's sure he could barf up a billion live butterflies. "She wrote that in her letter, so I asked Phone Girl,  _'By how much am I your favorite person?'_ "

Keith nods with a little hum of approval, not trusting his voice and hoping to God Lance doesn't turn around and see what a flustered mess he is.

" _So now,_  we're in position, the bait is laid, and now we wait."

Keith hums something skeptical, watching as the hallway grows evermore crowded as more and more buses arrive. "So it's a trap." he says, careful his voice doesn't betray him. "I thought you just wanted to be sure Phone Girl is Mystery Girl."

"I do!" Lance squeaks defensively, and even from behind, Keith can see his ears turning red. "It's _both_ \--two birds or whatever."

"Uh huh..." Keith watches Lance stretch up, trying to keep his locker in sight. He is totally, without a doubt, distracted.

So Keith texts him.

* * *

Lance yelps as his phone chimes, fumbling not to drop it as he takes it out a little too quickly. "It's her!!" he exclaims, but his smile drops just as soon as he reads the text.

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: As if I'd leave it with you watching.

 

" _How--_ " He looks back up at the crowd. "She can see me-- _again!_ " Before he can even try looking for her, he gets another text.

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: Why don't you just check your locker?

 

Lance balks at his phone before whipping around to Keith. "Did you see anyone?? At my locker??" The other boy just shrugs. Lance groans.

He slips out from their hiding spot and marches straight to his locker, face set in determination. He dials his combination with a steady hand and throws open the door. His seriousness instantly deflates.

"Oh,  _what!_ " He snatches the small note, neatly folded twice, from its resting place. " _How--when?!_ "

"Does it check out?" Keith asks somewhere behind him.

Lance huffs and opens the first fold.

 

_By 5,280 feet._

 

He frowns. That's not right. He undoes the second fold.

 

_A.K.A. a mile, dummy. ♡_

 

Lance falls into his locker with a loud  _thump_ and clutches his chest. " _She got me!_ "

Keith gives him a funny look so he hands the note to him. " _Wow._ " he snorts. "You're into this?"

Lance's face burns as he snatches the note back. "It's called  _banter_ , Mullet, and it's _playful_."

Keith just shakes his head. Lance doesn't expect him to understand--that boy doesn't have a romantic bone in his body.

 

 

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: So?

[Lancey Lance]: I am convinced  
[Lancey Lance]: I just  
[Lancey Lance]: WOW!  
[Lancey Lance]: I can still hardly believe you're real!

 

Lance isn't paying attention to whatever Mr. Smythe is saying, even though he may have heard the words 'important' and 'on the final' sometime ago. He's too engrossed with his future wife. Phone Girl _is_ Mystery Girl. She's talking to him! In real time!!

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: lol  
[Mystery Girl♡]: I'm real alright  
[Mystery Girl♡]: And soon you'll see me, and not just in your dreams ;)

 

Lance clutches his chest with a small, strangled noise. She's so  _bold!_ And  _flirty!_ She has to be real--Lance never could've dreamed up anyone half as perfect as her.

 

[Lancey Lance]: UGH ♡ ♡ ♡  
[Lancey Lance]: Remember when you were scared to talk to me?  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm sure glad you got over that

[Mystery Girl♡]: Are you kidding me? I'm TERRIFIED right now  
[Mystery Girl♡]: I've been freaking out ever since I left you my number

[Lancey Lance]: Whaaaaaaaaaat?  
[Lancey Lance]: You act so confident tho!

[Mystery Girl♡]: I feel like I'm the worst so I act like I'm the best?

[Lancey Lance]: Okay 1. Marina. Nice.  
[Lancey Lance]: And 2. You're so?? Amazing???  
[Lancey Lance]: Despite being scared you started leaving me notes? Your poetry ROCKS btw and you're so nice and brave and just??????  
[Lancey Lance]: You really are the best  
[Lancey Lance]: I don't think I'd ever have the courage to do what you did again

[Mystery Girl♡]: Again?

 

"Mr. McClain, please pay attention. Don't make me confiscate that."

Lance flushes deeply as the other kids quietly snicker at him. "Sorry, Mr. Smythe." he mumbles as he shoves his phone in his pocket. He waits until the teacher has turned around again to stealthily send one last text under his desk.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Mr s caught me. Talk more next period ♡

 

 

* * *

 

"I can't tell if this is an improvement or not." Pidge drawls as she watches Lance autopilot out of the classroom, eyes glued to his phone, not even bothering to say hi to his friends.

"That's you, right?" Hunk asks, glancing back at Keith.

In reply, Keith pulls out his phone, unlocks it, and shows them the conversation just as Lance spams him a bunch of hearts and double texts.

"You're an absolute madman." Pidge grins.

"This is good, right? Things are going good?"

Keith grumbles, mashing out a quick reply before speaking. "He likes my sense of humor." he says optimistically. He frowns. "But he still thinks I'm a girl."

Pidge and Hunk exchange a look and a sharp inhale. "That's, uhh..." Hunk stutters.

"Why not just tell him?" Pidge sighs. "Rip the bandaid off, y'know?"

"And rub salt in the wound while I'm at it? No thanks."

"What Pidge means," Hunks says quickly, stepping in between the two, "is that, maybe you'd feel  _better_ , with everything out in the open?"

"Oh, yeah,  _sure._ " Keith scoffs. "I'll feel  _so_ much better when Lance won't even talk to me. When he can only look at me with  _disgust--_ "

"Hey hey hey! What'd we say about that?" Hunk cuts in. "I thought we established that Lance would never do that!"

Keith heaves a deep sigh, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the hall. "Maybe he wouldn't with anybody else, but..." He tilts his head back, scowling up at the ceiling. "But it's  _me._ He--he's just--going to think I  _tricked_ him! He's going to think the worst and nothing I say will convince him otherwise."

"Maybe..." Pidge admits quietly. "But that's why you have us." Keith gives her a doubtful look; she smiles. "Maybe Lance is a huge idiot baby, and  _maybe_ he'll think the worst of his  _'rival'_ , but we've got your back, Keith. If he won't believe you, he'll believe us."

Keith gives her a grateful smile. And he is grateful, really, but... There's nothing Pidge or Hunk can say that can ease the knot in his stomach. No matter what lies he tells himself, Keith knows this isn't going to end well. So even if it's just a few more days, he just wants to enjoy this. He's resigned to tell the truth, when the time comes, but for now, he just wants to pretend. For now, he wants to believe that what he has is real. For now, he can be Mystery Girl.

 

* * *

 

 

 

[Lancey Lance]: Favorite flower?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Idk  
[Mystery Girl♡]: I don't think I have one?

[Lancey Lance]: Mine are sunflowers!  
[Lancey Lance]: How can you not have a favorite flower??

[Mystery Girl♡]: I don't know I just never really cared? Or thought about it?  
[Mystery Girl♡]: I like dandelions

[Lancey Lance]: Dandelions are weeds!!

[Mystery Girl♡]: Ur a weed

[Lancey Lance]: Rude!

 

A light slap to his arm pulls Lance from his conversation. "Ms. Plaxum will take your phone if you're not careful." Keith hisses at him. Lance sticks his tongue out.

 

[Lancey Lance]: UGH I should go. Mullet says I'll get in trouble if I keep texting during class.

[Mystery Girl♡]: Mullet?

[Lancey Lance]: You know Keith Kogane? He's a jerk but he occasionally has good points.

[Mystery Girl♡]: Mullet???

[Lancey Lance]: Yeah bc he has a mullet??

[Mystery Girl♡]: I think his hair is just long...

[Lancey Lance]: Nah it's a mullet.  
[Lancey Lance]: A shaggy mullet  
[Lancey Lance]: But a mullet none the less

 

Suddenly a textbook falls on top of his phone. Lance squawks but Keith cuts him off.

"So which conjugation do you think we should use for question two?" He asks loudly, glaring pointedly at Lance.

Lance blinks in confusion, stuttering nonsense until he notices Ms. Plaxum walk by; she smiles and gives the boys a nod before checking on the next pair of students.

Keith watches her walk away, tense, but relaxes once she's out of earshot. He sighs and slides his textbook back into his lap. " _Dude._ " he hisses. "It's like you're  _trying_ to get your phone confiscated."

Lance shrugs helplessly.  _Why do you care?_ he wants to say, but what comes out is, "Thanks." Lance startles at his own words, wondering which wires got crossed in his brain, but the thought leaves just as quick because  _Keith smiles at him_.

"Just... Be more careful, okay? Hide it behind a book, or in your lap--don't just leave your phone  _on your desk_." Keith smirks and Lance squirms in his seat. "You're talking to Mystery Girl, right?" Lance nods. "How would she feel if you suddenly stopped replying?"

Lance tries to swallow, but there seems to be a lump in his esophagus all the way from his throat to his stomach. "I--" his voice cracks; he clears his throat. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

Keith immediately lights up like a Christmas tree; Lance cackles. "I mean, I knew you were secretly  _squishy_ , but look at you! You're a regular Cyrano!"

" _Ugh!_ Why do I bother!" Keith gripes, shoving Lance's grinning face away.

"Are you in love with my Mystery Girl, Mullet? You only helping me because you can't have her?" he coos.

Keith slaps him across the shoulder with his workbook. " _Shut up!_ "

Lance howls with laughter. "Admit it! You're living vicariously through me!"

"You're such a dumbass!" Keith squeaks, face redder than a ruby, as he lands several more blows.

" _Ahem._ "

Both boys freeze and look up. Ms. Plaxum is standing in front them, arms crossed, tapping her foot. They both quickly settle back into their seats, heads down, with muttered apologies. The teacher shakes her head with a sigh and walks away.

Lance glances up from his textbook to see Keith already looking at him. He gives Lance a strained expression full of teeth:  _'Oops.'_ Lance just shrugs, lips pulled into a thin line:  _'Oh well.'_

They dissolve into a quiet fit of giggles before returning in earnest to their classwork.

 

* * *

 

 

"Well, someone looks happy."

_Deep breaths, Keith._ Keith opens his eyes and smiles at Hunk, well aware of his perpetual blush.

Hunk grins and sits down next to him. "I take it texting is going well?"

Keith chews his cheeks with a shy grin. "Actually, we just...talked, last period."

Hunk raises an eyebrow. "You told him?"

"What? No! I mean, we just, y'know,  _talked._ " Keith stammers. "He almost got his phone taken and we sit next to each other so, well..." He shrugs.

Hunk just grins at him. "Will I sound like a broken record if I say  _told you so?_ "

Keith rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Told me what?"

"Lance doesn't hate you!"

"I said we  _talked_ , I didn't say he was  _nice_. Besides," Keith absently flips through his notes, refusing to look at Hunk, "he made fun of me to Mystery Girl."

"But did he tell her he hates you?"

"Oh my god," Keith laughs, "you really  _are_ a broken record!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

[Lancey Lance]: How tall are you?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Not as tall as you.

[Lancey Lance]: I'm taller than everyone tho  
[Lancey Lance]: Even Mr Slav!  
[Lancey Lance]: Ok ok  
[Lancey Lance]: whaaaaaaaaaat  
[Lancey Lance]: color is ur hair?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Dark.

[Lancey Lance]: Eyes?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Dark.

[Lancey Lance]: Soul?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Dark. :P

[Lancey Lance]: lol  
[Lancey Lance]: Are u a goth girl?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Nah.

[Lancey Lance]: Emo?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Only according to assholes.

[Lancey Lance]: Come on throw me a bone here!

[Mystery Girl♡]: I seem to remember a certain someone saying he didn't want to pressure me...

[Lancey Lance]: I'm sorry!  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm excited!!  
[Lancey Lance]: :D :D :D  
[Lancey Lance]:  I'm just trying to build a mental image of you!

[Mystery Girl♡]: You'll just be disappointed when you meet me...

[Lancey Lance]: No I won't!  
[Lancey Lance]: No matter how I think you look like I'm sure you'll be a hundred times prettier in person!!! ♡

 

"Okay, that's it."

"Hey!" Lance squeaks as Pidge plucks his phone right out of his hands and tucks it in her bag. "Pidge!"

"Oh, so you  _can_ see me. And here I thought I was invisible." Lance huffs and crosses his arms. "It's lunch. Take a break, eat your food, and  _talk to your friends._ "

Lance groans and rolls his head back dramatically. " _Fiiiiiiiine._ " He sits up and pokes at his sandwich. "But, can I at least tell her--"

" _ **No.**_ "

" _Ugh,_ you're the worst."

"So how are things going?" Hunk asks lightly, ignoring Pidge's death glare.

"Great!" Lance sighs dreamily. "She's so cool--and funny! _Ahh!_ " He scrubs his hair, lovesick smile unwavering. "I'm going crazy! I want to meet her  _so bad!!_ "

"How hard is it to wait two more days?" Keith asks dryly, not even looking up from his food.

Lance puffs out his cheeks. "Two  _and a half_ more days, and it's  _torture!_ " he cries, leaning bodily into Keith. The other boy squawks as he's nearly pushed out of his seat. "You just wouldn't understand, Mullet, you've never been in love!"

"How can you love someone you've never even met?" Pidge says. "You don't know anything about her--you don't know what she looks like, you don't know her _name_..."

"I think what Pidge is trying to say," Hunk quickly continues, "is that, uh, you might be--just a little bit--projecting your, um, idealistic wishes onto her? Maybe?"

Lance gasps defensively, and then in surprise as Keith finally pushes him off and he falls onto the floor. Lance scrambles back into his seat. "Am not!" he cries. "I love her! And I'll still love her no matter who she is!"

"Uh huh. And who do you  _think_ she is?" Pidge asks wryly.

"Dark eyes, dark hair, biting wit..." Lance bites his lip to keep from grinning too wide. "Sounds a lot like Jenny Baker if you ask me..."

All of his friends groan.

" _Lance..._ " Hunk sighs, rubbing his temples.

"What?!"

"You just  _want_ it to be Jenny!" Pidge cries, exasperated.

"So?! What's wrong with that!"

"What if it's  _not_ Jenny?"

"That's fine too! Like I said, no matter who she is--"

"What if she  _knows_ you want her to be Jenny?" Hunk exclaims.

Lance inhales but stops. _Oh._

"You  _know_ she can overhear you sometimes, what's she supposed to think when she hears you say stuff like that?" Hunk chides.

"Why should she believe anything you  _tell_ her when she can  _hear_ you openly hoping for someone else?" Pidge adds.

"Or flirting with someone else." Keith mumbles.

"I..." Lance tries to swallow, but his mouth is dry. There's a pit in his stomach that seems to reach all the way up into his chest and squeeze his heart. "I didn't think about that..." he says quietly.

" _Yeah_ , no kidding." Pidge grumbles, stabbing her overcooked vegetables aggressively. "Frankly, I'm surprised she even still talks to you..."

Lance fidgets in his seat but doesn't say anything. Eventually the upset silence lifts and Pidge and Hunk start discussing their Science final, but Lance doesn't really listen. He feels awful, and he only feels worse by the end of lunch when he finally gets his phone back from Pidge.

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: Don't worry, I saw Pidge take your phone, I know you're not ignoring me.  
[Mystery Girl♡]: We can talk more later. Enjoy your lunch ♡

 

Lance's heart sinks. She heard  _everything._  She heard him say all that stupid shit, and worst of all, she hasn't sent him another text.

She's mad at him.

Lance skips going to his locker and just heads straight for the art room after lunch. He drops his bag by his stool and slumps across the table with a miserable groan.

He's vaguely aware of someone sitting down next to him.

"I messed up _everything_..." he moans into the desk. "She heard everything at lunch and now she hates me!"

"She doesn't hate you." Keith says dismissively.

"How do _you_ know!" Lance cries, snapping his head up to glare with a wobbly lip.

"Because you've said dumb things before but she always keeps talking to you."

Lance pouts, heart fluttering with hope at the words, though Keith's pissy expression puts a damper on that hope. "But that's just it. She  _hasn't_ talked to me since I said those dumb things!"

Keith just shakes his head, eyes focused on his sketch. "Have _you_ tried talking to her?"

Lance opens his mouth but immediately snaps it shut. _Ugh._  He hates it when Keith has a point.

He digs out his phone and stares at it for a long minute. What does he even say? Does he apologize? Does he ask if she's mad? His gaze wonders up and lands on Jenny across the room. She has her phone out and her friends huddled around her, giggling quietly but excitedly. Lance's heart skips a beat.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Are you Jenny Baker?

 

Her reply comes almost instantly.

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: You know I can't tell you that.

 

Lance chews his lip, trying hard to look casual and not stare at Jenny.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Well what can you tell me?

[Mystery Girl♡]: I regret leaving you that first note.

 

Lance sucks in a breath and looks up-- _No,_ stay focused. Eyes down.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Why?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Because you're going to hate me.

[Lancey Lance]: I'm not!!!!!!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: So you're not Jenny. Or maybe you are! I don't care!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I like YOU, no matter WHO you are :(  
[Lancey Lance]: As far as I'm concerned, you're just the amazing girl that left me notes and continues to make my day!  
[Lancey Lance]: You're sweet and funny and I like you so much!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Every time I get a new text I get butterflies because I'm so excited!  
[Lancey Lance]: I can't WAIT to meet you!!  
[Lancey Lance]: And I don't care if you're ugly or stupid or even a seventh grader!

[Mystery Girl♡]: What if I'm ugly stupid AND a seventh grader?

[Lancey Lance]: Then I will love and cherish my ugly duckling baby girl

[Mystery Girl♡]: Gross. Never say any of those words again.

 

Lance laughs, relief washing over him.  _Banter._ They're okay. He's okay.

 

[Lancey Lance]: I promise, but only if you answer this one question.  
[Lancey Lance]: No dodging!!  
[Lancey Lance]: This is the most serious important deal breaking question ever.  
[Lancey Lance]:   
[Lancey Lance]:   
[Lancey Lance]:   
[Lancey Lance]: Milk dark or white chocolate?

[Mystery Girl♡]: Fool.  
[Mystery Girl♡]: All chocolate is delicious.

 

"Mr. McClain."

Lance snaps up. Ms. Ryner is frowning at him.

"Your final portfolio is due next week. Am I to assume you've already finished? Shall I collect your work early?"

Lance flushes a deep, embarrassed scarlet. "No, Ma'am!" he squeaks, quickly shoving his phone in his pocket. "I, uh--"

"He left his pencils at home." Keith supplies. Lance gapes at him. "He was texting his mom to see if she could drop them off."

Ms. Ryner considers this. After a long moment, she sighs. "That won't be necessary. Mr. Kogane, would you be so kind as to share yours for today?" Keith nods and slides his fancy sketching pencils between him and Lance. "Mr. McClain, please make sure you are prepared for class tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma'am!" he squeaks as she walks away. It takes a moment for Lance to start breathing again. " _Dude._ " he whispers at Keith.

"What?" Keith asks, tearing out a page from his sketchbook and setting it in front of Lance.

Lance flails his arms helplessly. "You didn't have to do that."

Keith shrugs. "It'd be stupid if you failed the class just because you were texting your crush."

Lance flails some more, mouth flapping uselessly. "Yeah, but...  _Thanks._ For having my back."

"It's no big deal." Keith says with another shrug, but Lance can tell how hard he's trying not to smile.

He's floored, honestly. If this had been last week, he's sure Keith would've just kept his mouth shut--hell, he probably wouldn't have even noticed Lance getting in trouble. Something squirms in his chest and suddenly he's very,  _very_ happy he accidentally told Keith about his secret admirer. Who knew all it took to get Keith to open up was a little romantic intrigue? Lance wonders if they'll still talk after the dance, after Lance has unmasked his Mystery Girl and Keith no longer has a reason to hang around.

He actually sort of hopes they do.

 

* * *

 

 

[Lancey Lance]: Sorry for going dark  
[Lancey Lance]: Ms Ryner yelled at me.

[Mystery Girl♡]: You gotta get better at hiding your phone.  
[Mystery Girl♡]: I feel like every teacher has scolded you for it.

[Lancey Lance]: Haha yeah  
[Lancey Lance]: You're probably right  
[Lancey Lance]: About both actually >_>

[Mystery Girl♡]: We could just talk after school?

[Lancey Lance]: I gotta run errands with my mom today, and she won't give me warnings  
[Lancey Lance]: She'll just straight up take my phone away if I'm not paying attention...

[Mystery Girl♡]: Yikes  
[Mystery Girl♡]: Sorry

[Lancey Lance]: It's okay  
[Lancey Lance]: It's a small price to pay for being the favorite child

[Mystery Girl♡]: lmao  
[Mystery Girl♡]: Are you really?

[Lancey Lance]: Hey being the baby of the family comes with all sorts of perks lol

 

The second bell rings, signalling for class to begin.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Gotta go. Mr Thace is not a man to be trifled with  
[Lancey Lance]: But let's switch it up. Why don't you ask me something and I'll answer after class?

 

"So?" Hunk asks gently. "How're things? Y'know, after everything at lunch?"

Keith sighs and tucks his phone under his notebook. "They're okay, I think..." He pauses to chew his lip while he considers how much he wants to divulge to Hunk. "He pointblank asked me if I was Jenny Baker..." he admits.

The look Hunk gives him is far more sympathetic than Keith can deal with. "And what'd you say to that?"

"Just that I can't tell him... But," Keith straightens up a bit, slapping on a hopeful smile. "But we talked, again. I mean, he talked to  _me._ And that's... That's good."

Hunk nods. "That is good."

Keith nods several times. "Yeah, it's good, it's..." He swallows and squeezes his eyes shut. "It got me thinking that maybe I... Maybe Mystery Girl should disappear."

"Keith--"

"Maybe she could get sick, or-or grounded, or--"

" _Keith._ "

"Why not!" Keith rasps desperately. "It's never going to work--he's never going to be happy with  _me._ But we're--Hunk, he's actually  _talking_ to me. I sit with you guys at lunch now! We're-we're almost  _friends!_ "

"And what happens when _she_ stops talking to him? How will Lance feel when his secret admirer just,  _disappears?_ He likes her, Keith. Lance may be dramatic and over the top, but he really, really likes her."

"Then what happens when he finds out she's a boy?!" Keith demands. His eyes sting with angry tears. "What happens when he finds out it's  _me?!_ "

"Keith--"

" _No._ You don't--" He hiccups, struggling to keep his voice down. "You don't  _get it._ You may be Lance's  _friend,_ but you've never been his  _rival._  You've never been on the receiving end of his  _hate._ "

Hunk frowns at him wordlessly, eyes gleaming with worry and understanding and it makes Keith nauseous. He stays focused on the lesson for the rest of class, pointedly ignoring Hunk every time he tries to get his attention. His stomach is in knots, twisting worse and worse the more he tries not to think about everything. He shouldn't have snapped at Hunk, he feels bad for it, but he's also not ready to apologize either. Why was it so hard for him to understand?! Becoming Lance's friend is the best case scenario. Sure, having Mystery Girl disappear will hurt, at least at first, but he'll get over it. Keith could help him get over it.

Keith sighs.

That's manipulative, isn't it? He can't do that, that's even  _worse_. Lance would be heartbroken if Mystery Girl stopped talking to him, if he was stood up at the dance... No matter what, Lance is going to get hurt. They both are. Keith really should have thought this through. The only way he could possibly fix this mess is if...

If he got Jenny Baker to ask Lance to the dance.

Keith bites his lip and blinks back hot tears. That's what he has to do, isn't it? That's the only way he could end this without hurting Lance, and if it all works out, they might even stay friends. That's the goal, right? Make Lance happy while managing to stay in his life. It could work, too, given how much Jenny flirts back with him. It wouldn't be a stretch to get her to ask him out.

But this can be a tomorrow problem.

Right now, Keith doesn't think he could talk to Jenny let alone approach her without bursting into tears. Hell, he's having a hard time keeping it in right now as it is. He takes a deep breath and scrubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. When Mr. Slav isn't looking, he stealthily pulls out his phone, considering Lance's last text.

 

* * *

 

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: What's your go-to comfort food when you feel like shit?

 

Lance frowns. It's not that it wasn't an interesting question, but...

 

[Lancey Lance]: Is something wrong? Do you wanna talk about it?

 

He waits as long as he can before heading to the gym. She still hasn't answered by the time he makes it to the locker room.

 

[Lancey Lance]: My mom's garlic knots always cheer me up, but if she's not around, I'll eat like 20 popsicles.  
[Lancey Lance]: They remind me of summer and family and visiting my abuela in Cuba  
[Lancey Lance]: And they're delicious lol  
[Lancey Lance]: If you're feeling down I can pick some up over at the gas station  
[Lancey Lance]: I could leave them somewhere for you  
[Lancey Lance]: I promise I won't spy  
[Lancey Lance]: I gotta go I hope you feel better :(

 

Lance stashes his phone and clothes into one of the lockers when he notices a distinct lack of sneakers squeaking. He looks up and realizes he's once again the last one to finish changing. But something feels off. Something's missing...

Keith.

He didn't see Keith when he came in. Lance frowns. He hopes he's okay, that the cafeteria food didn't poison him again. He'd go and look for him but he's sure Coach Iverson is about to come screaming into the locker rooms any second now. He tries to shove down the anxious twisting in his gut as he jogs out into the gym, only...

There's Keith! He's already sitting in the lineup, picking at a scab on his leg. Lance's first reaction is relief, then joy, then something...else. Something not good, accompanied only by the thought of  _he didn't wait for me._

"Hey!" Lance greets as he approaches. Keith doesn't look up; Lance frowns. "I missed you back there." He forces a laugh. "Who knew changing clothes would be so boring with no one to talk to?"

Keith doesn't respond.

Lance sits down and chews his lip. "Hey," he tries again, softer, "you okay?" Keith gives a small shrug but still doesn't look up. Lance's chest tightens. "D-Did  _I_ do something wrong?"

Keith's head snaps up and faces Lance. "What? No! Of course not--why would--"

Lance shrugs helplessly. "I don't know?? You didn't wait for me, a-and you were ignoring me--"

Keith sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, messing up both the headband and his ponytail. Lance hadn't noticed until just now that he was even wearing his hair up again; it makes his face feel hot. "I just--Math sucked, that's all. I'm sorry." Keith makes eye contact and Lance loses his voice. He knew Keith had dark eyes, but in the bright florescent lights of the gymnasium, they look almost blue, or...grey? They look like space.

The whistle tweets, pulling both of their attention to...

"Mr. Smythe?!" Lance squawks.

The English teacher chuckles. "Not today! Today, I am your substitute Gym teacher--Coach Coran!" he declares, striking an odd pose.

"Where's Coach Iverson?" one of the other students asks.

Mr. Smythe gestures to the bleachers where Iverson sits. He has his arms crossed,  _fuming._ "Afraid ol' Mitch here caught a bad case of laryngitis! So until he gets his voice back, I shall be conducting class!"

Lance snorts and nudges Keith. " _Iverson literally screamed himself hoarse._ " he whispers. Keith presses a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter; Lance grins.

"Now," Mr. Smythe continues, pacing along the lineup, "unfortunately the heat index is still well above the safe limit for you kiddies, so we'll be having class indoors today." The entire class groans; the teacher holds up a hand. "So what do you say to a rousing game of Sharks and Minnows?"

The whole class erupts in a chorus of cheers. Sharks and Minnows is God Tier, second only to kickball days. Mr. Smythe blows the whistle in a twirling melody as everyone scrambles to one side of the gym.

"Now I'm sure you all know the rules--make it to the other side of the gym without being caught. If a shark tags you, plant yourself on the spot, become seaweed, and try to snare other minnows! Now," he toots the whistle, "who wants to be a shark?"

Twenty-odd hands fly into the air, each student bouncing excitedly and begging to be picked. Lance looks to his right; Keith's hand is raised. Lance quickly grabs his wrist and pulls it back down. Keith gives him a curious look.

"Don't you wanna be a shark?" he asks quietly.

Lance grins as the three chosen sharks race to the middle of the gym. "How're we supposed to chat if we're busy chasing other people?"

Keith stares, then smiles and looks away with a little nod.

Mr. Smythe struts over to the bleachers and takes a seat next to Iverson. Lance throws a sideways smirk over at Keith. "Race you."

The whistle blows; the horde of students take off across the gym.

Shrieks and laughter fill the air as the three sharks run at them. They're uncoordinated, chasing after individuals instead of trying to herd and trap a group. Lance hurtles over a seaweed, managing to escape their flailing grasp, but falls right into a shark, right near half court. He groans and pouts as he begrudgingly sits down. Taken out in the first round,  _pathetic._

He looks up at the majority of the class as they gather at the far wall. Keith made it. He stands there, grinning at Lance.

Keith sticks his tongue out at him.

Lance balks, throwing an offended hand over his heart, but he can't help but grin because Keith is laughing. Keith's been doing that a lot lately, and Lance... Well, it suits him. He wants to keep making him laugh.

But he also wants revenge.

The whistle blows and the minnows come charging towards him. Lance keeps his eye on Keith. He lets the other kids run first, using them as a distraction so he can slip past the sharks. It almost works, except it looks like the sharks got organized. One comes up from behind; Keith notices though. He weaves through the fallen seaweeds well enough, but Lance catches his pursuer's eye and waves him over. The kid grins and speeds up, jumping ahead of Keith and forcing him to bank left, right into Lance's gangly, outstretched arm.

He catches Keith by the wrist.

Keith is tugged backwards and falls on him.

"Lance!" he shrieks while Lance cackles and wraps his arms around his middle.

"Right into my clutches!" he laughs as Keith tries to wiggle free. "With friends like these, who needs anemones!"

"You're a seaweed, not an anemone!" he shouts, managing to slip out of his grasp. He quickly slides into a sitting position next to Lance; his hair is a wreck, completely messed up from Lance's hold.

Lance, still laughing, props himself up on his elbows. The shark that assisted in the capture is laughing too, bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He high-fives Lance before jogging away.

"You're the worst." Keith grumbles.

Lance sits all the way up and scoots closer. He bumps their shoulders together. "Aww, don't pout, Mullet! Now we can hang out until the next round!"

Lance never thought he'd ever use the word  _precious_ to describe Keith, but his pouty death glare combined with the awful birds nest that is his messed up hair is nothing short of  _freaking adorable._ Lance grins. "You look like a pissed off pigeon."

Keith rips his headband off and fires it at Lance. Lance cackle as it dully hits his cheek. "Careful! You're gonna put someone's eye out!"

Keith huffs. "I was going for your big mouth."

Lance grins and snaps the headband back, hitting Keith square in the forehead. "Then you need to work on your aim."

Keith grumbles something under his breath just as the whistle blows and the swarm of minnows streaks by once more.

Lance watches as Keith tugs at his tangled ponytail, wincing when the hair tie won't come out. "Here, let me--" Lance scoots around to Keith's back and swats his hands away. Keith is tense, spine painfully straight as Lance starts to work. "Relax, Mullet. I'm not giving you a haircut."

Keith actually does relax, sort of. He slumps forward a bit while Lance carefully undoes the hair tie one twist at a time. It takes two more minnow runs, but Lance eventually frees the tie, tearing out only one knot as a causality. He starts working his fingers through his hair to coax out the other tangles. "Man, do you ever comb your hair?" he jokes.

Keith tenses again. "Well you see, I was mauled by a  _tree..._ "

Lance laughs. " _Rude_." His chest swells with something proud, because Keith's shoulders relax again and somehow, Lance just knows the other boy is smiling. He gather's his hair into a new ponytail, pulling the tie off his wrist and securing it. He reaches over Keith's shoulder and makes a grabby motion. After a moment, Keith hands him the headband. Lance stretches it over his head and carefully tucks his bangs back. "There, good as new!"

Keith reaches back and tentatively feels out the ponytail. "Should I even ask why you're so good at this?"

Lance shrugs, wearing an easy smile. "My sister Ronnie used to let me play with her hair when we were younger, and I used to play with Pidge's before she chopped it all off." He laughs. "Actually, that might be  _why_ she cut it..."

The whistle sounds a little longer this time and both boys look up to where Mr. Smythe is standing. "Good job, everyone! And congratulations to Glenn!" Said kid stands triumphant, the last minnow standing. "You have the honor of choosing the next sharks! Now, everyone up! Let's go again!"

Mr. Smythe toots the whistle several times until everyone is back against the wall, those not absolutely exhausted volunteering for shark duty. Lance keeps Keith and himself at the back of the group, heads down. Once the sharks have been chosen, Mr. Smythe backs away to a safe distance once more before starting the new match.

Lance holds on to Keith's wrist until all the other students have darted away, at which point, he starts jogging across the court, right into the clusterfuck of chaos in the middle. He tugs Keith a little off to the side and plops down. Keith gives him a quizical look, but wordlessly sits down next to him.

"Do you have any siblings?" Lance asks.

Keith shakes his head. "You?"

"Three--my brothers Marco and Luis, and my sister Veronica. I'm the youngest!" Lance pauses. "I could've sworn Pidge mentioned you having a brother..."

"My cousin. But we're close."

Lance nods. "I have, like, a zillion cousins. But they all live in Cuba."

"Are you and your siblings close?"

"We used to be, but Luis is in college now, and Ronnie's busy working on her Gold Award--it's like an Eagle Scout--and Marco... Marco's a butt." Keith laughs; Lance smiles fondly. "He still makes time for me, though. We'll play video games together sometimes. Do play video games?"

Keith makes a sort of half-nod half-shake. "Sort of. I don't have any consoles or anything, but I downloaded some emulators. It's mostly old stuff though. Classic SNES, a few N64 games, Pokemon..."

"You play Pokemon?!"

Keith startles and blinks wide-eyed at Lance. "Uhh... Yeah?"

"YEAH!!" Lance holds up his hand for a high-five; Keith just stares at it. After a moment he raises his own hand. Lance doesn't wait for it to get all the way though, instead quickly slapping his hand to Keith's the first chance he gets. Lance grins but Keith just looks confused. "I always go for the water starters--what about you?"

"Fire..." Keith admits quietly with a tiny smile. He looks flushed; Lance feels flushed. It's very hot in this gym.

"What's your favorite game?" Lance asks, kicking his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his palms.

"Well, I really liked Heart Gold, and I've tried running some of the newer games but they always seem to glitch out. I've always wanted to get into the online play but the program I use can't really handle it..."

"Dude!" Lance exclaims, making Keith jump. "Marco has an old copy of Y he doesn't play anymore! He dumped all his Pokemon in the Bank when Gen 7 came out! We could totally, like, start a playthrough together! I can reset my copy of X and everything!"

Keith just stares at him. "Really?" he asks, a sliver of hope attached to his voice that makes Lance smile wider. "That'd be awesome--wait, wouldn't we need two 3DSs for that?"

Lance grins and nudges Keith with his foot. "I'm sure Luis wouldn't miss his. He left it at home after all..."

Keith smiles brightly; Lance returns it.

Mr. Smythe blows the whistle, signalling the end of the match. Everyone gathers at the wall again for a third and final round. Everyone else looks exhausted, but why wouldn't they? All the other students have spent the last 15 minutes running around the gym, leaving them too tired to even want to be a shark. Lance grins and looks at Keith; the other grins back, seemingly thinking the same thing. Both their hands shoot up and they're both chosen as sharks by the last victorious minnow.

"Are we gonna see who can tag the most people?" Keith asks as they stride out to the center of the gym.

Lance shakes his head. "Actually, I was thinking more of a bait and switch plan."

Keith snorts. "Oh my God, please don't use fishing puns."

Lance laughs, the sound drowned out by the whistle.

With little more than a name, the two are surprisingly on the same wavelength: Lance uses his long reach and quick stride to block and corner a group of minnows and chase them back, where the other boy utilizes his sharper turns to tag out five of them. After only one run, they've already eliminated a quarter of the class, and it only gets easier from there. They strategically lay down dense clumps of seaweed to funnel the remaining minnows into a bottleneck, making it impossible for any of them to escape being tagged. The match is over in a blink of an eye and Mr. Smythe is tweeting his whistle happily.

"Well done, boys!" he commends with a laugh. "Excellent teamwork!" He claps his hands together. "I know there's still a few minutes of class left, but why don't you all go get changed? I don't see the harm in dismissing you a bit early!"

The class whoops and thanks Mr. Smythe while Coach Iverson chokes hoarsely from the bleachers, presumably trying to chew him out.

"You know," Lance starts once they're in the locker room, "we do make a pretty good team." He smiles at Keith.

Keith smiles back, eyes shining.

"Hey, Lance!" someone calls from the door. "Get out here, someone wants to talk to you!"

Keith and Lance exchange a look. "Go." Keith says. "I'll catch up." He smiles.

Lance nods and hurriedly finishes changing. He grabs his bag and dashes into the hall.

His heart stops.

Jenny Baker is waiting for him, surrounded by a gaggle of her friends, all of them giggling.

"Hi, Lance." she says shyly, pushing back her friends as they grin and lean into her.

"Hi, Jenny." Lance croaks, face already on fire.

"So, um," she bites her lip nervously, cheeks flushed the most gorgeous shade of pink Lance has ever seen. "A little birdie told me you haven't asked anyone to the dance yet."

Lance's heart hopscotches over several beats as he nods dazedly.

"So I was wondering..." she continues, her friends quietly squealing behind her. "Do you maybe wanna go with me?"

Lance's heart explodes.

Jenny Baker is asking him to the dance. Jenny _the Greek Goddess_  Baker is asking  _him_ out!!

"It's just," she stutters, unable to keep her excited smile contained. "I've always thought you were funny and cute and--I  _love_ having classes with you--you're my  _favorite_."

Lance feels dizzy, his blood pumping fast and hot through his veins. He's her... _favorite?_ Is she--she is!! He  _knew it!!_ Jenny _is_ his Mystery Girl!!

His heart sings, his hands tingle. Lance feels like he's going to combust into a shower of fireworks. He grins brightly, making Jenny and her friends squirm and giggle. "By 5,280 feet, right?"

Her brows draw together, smile wavering ever so slightly. "What?"

Lance's smile slides right off his face.

_It's not her._

"I, uh," Suddenly his phone feels like a stone in his pocket. He stutters some more nonsense as he struggles to pull it out. Jenny looks nervously to her friends. Lance unlocks his phone, right to their conversation: Mystery Girl replied to his last text. Actually, she's typing something else right now.

Lance looks up. None of Jenny's friends have their phones out. He glances around the hall; no one else in sight. He swallows hard. Beyond the surprise and nerves and dread, there's something else swirling around his gut.

_Determination._

"Actually," he starts sheepishly. He clutches his phone tightly and gives Jenny a warm, apologetic smile. "I already have a date for the dance." Jenny pales so he quickly continues. "But I'm super flattered! I like you a lot, Jenny, really! It's just... I already promised someone else, y'know?"

Jenny nods slightly, looking on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry! I know it takes a lot of guts to ask someone like this! You're so cool--I'm sure you'll find someone way better to go with!"

Jenny smiles gratefully at him before her friends start steering her away, whispering praise to her and throwing frowns over their shoulders at Lance.

They round a corner and Lance finally starts breathing again. He falls against the wall, head spinning. Did he really just turn down  _Jenny Baker_ in favor of a girl he's never even  _met?_ Is he  _crazy!?_

He unlocks his phone and starts typing.

* * *

 

Keith is almost out the door when he gets a new text. Deciding it best to hang back and answer Lance, he locks himself in the lone bathroom stall in the room.

 

[Lancey Lance]: You better be real because a REAL GIRL just asked me to the dance and I turned her down for you.

 

He... _what?_

No, no, _no, no, no._ Keith can't breathe. He's gasping in lungfuls of air but he can't  _breathe._ Someone asked Lance out?  _Who?_ Why did he say  _no!?_

Keith's hands shake. He presses one to his mouth in a futile effort to keep quiet.

Whoever asked him was important enough for Lance to  _tell Mystery Girl_ about it.

This is--this is too soon. Keith isn't ready yet. He wanted to do this Friday--tomorrow if he had to! But not  _now!_ He and Lance were really,  _finally_ getting along! They're friends! They... _were_ , friends.

Keith hiccups wetly, trying to type with one hand but ultimately needing both to keep his phone steady.

His mind's a mess. He can't think two words ahead without another wave of tears hitting him. He tries to breathe through his nose, but it's becoming difficult. He keeps his mouth clamped shut. Wobbly, but shut, sure if his lips break apart the ensuing wail will just give him away.

Finally, he hits send.

He can't breathe.

* * *

 

Lance remains leaning against the wall, trying not to look at his phone every three seconds. He taps his foot, he drums his fingers, he clicks his tongue--anything to try to dispel this anxious energy.

After several minutes, his phone finally chimes.

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: What if I'm not a girl?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lance...

 

 

Hadn't...

 

 

 

Thought...

 

 

Of that.

 

Actually, Lance has  _never_ thought about that.

He always considered himself to be Prince Charming, on an epic quest to find his Princess.

He never considered  _he_ might have a Prince Charming.

That's twice the charm.

That's...

 

A lot of charm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But.

 

 

You can never have...

 

 

... _Too_ much charm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Right?

 

 

* * *

 

Keith sits curled into a ball, face buried in his arms in a weak effort to muffle his crying. His thoughts drain into a self-deprecating spiral, wondering why oh  _why_ did he have to be so  _selfish?_

His phone, still clutched tightly in a shaky hand, silently lights up. The brightness draws his attention and a quiet moan.

It's Lance.

He can't read it, he doesn't have the heart. He doesn't want to see the written equivalent of his crush screaming at him, cursing and calling him out,  _disgusted_ by his dirty lies.

But the masochist in Keith can't help it.

He unlocks his phone and blinks back the tears until he can make out the tiny words on the screen.

 

[Lancey Lance]: As long as you're cute ;)

 

Keith's chest heaves, not drawing in air, not making a sound, until his voice falls apart and a broken laugh tumbles out. And once it's out, he can't stop it. His vision blurs over once more with tears, but his cheeks ache with a smile that threatens to break him.

He uncurls, just enough to wipe his eyes and really see his phone.

 

[Mystery Girl♡]: What if I'm not cute?

[Lancey Lance]: Well then it's a good thing I'm cute enough for the both of us :P

 

His laughter grows, filling his chest to bursting.

He can't... _believe_ that... That he's...

_Okay_.

He's okay. Lance is okay. They're both okay.

Keith was worried for nothing. Hunk was right.

He doesn't know what to do now. He hadn't exactly planned for this, for things to go well and certainly not this _soon_.

But it's okay! Everything's okay!

For the first time in a long time everything really is actually  _okay._

Keith stands, still shaking a bit, but from the laughter, from the  _joy_ , from something beyond relief that he doesn't have a name for.

He exits the stall and finds he's alone in the locker room, everyone else having already left. He washes his hands and splashes cold water on his face, trying to cover up the fact that he'd been crying.

He grabs his bag and heads for the door, and is assaulted the second he steps out.

"KEITH!!"

Suddenly there's a pair of arms around him and his feet aren't connected to the floor. The world spins around him and just as quickly he's back on Earth, dizzy and confused with a very excited Lance in front of him.

"It's a boy!!" he yells.

Keith's head lolls a little as he struggle to find balance. "Huh?"

"Jenny Baker asked me to the dance and I turned her down and I told Mystery Girl and--KEITH!!" Lance shakes him by the shoulders. "That's why I couldn't figure out who she is! Because she's not a she,  _he's a he!!_ " he exclaims, still shaking Keith excitedly.

Keith grabs hold of Lance's wrists in an attempt to make him stop; he does.

"Or maybe they're a they? Oh gosh! I should've asked follow up questions! I hope I'm not misgendering them!!"

Lance continues to ramble, going a mile a minute while Keith's brain tries to right itself. "Th... And that's okay?" he says finally. Lance cuts himself off midsentence and turns his radiant smile on him. "It's okay that, that they're a boy?"

"Are. You. KIDDING!?" Lance shouts, giving Keith another jostle. "That's BETTER!!" He grabs Keith's hands and spins them around again. "A  _boy_ sent me love letters! And wrote me  _poetry!!_ A  _boy_ asked me out and complimented me and filled my locker with  _hearts_ and--" He wraps Keith up in another tight hug, lifting him off his feet and turning them in a lazy circle.

He sets Keith down, one hand clutching his arm for support, the other running through his short hair. "That's--" he stutters breathlessly, voice finally coming back down. "That's  _amazing!_ Like, you'd sorta expect a _girl_ to do all that stuff, but a  _boy!?_ That's so--so-- _romantic!"_ he laughs. He slides his hand down his face, fingers brushing over his wide, euphoric smile. "No wonder he was so scared to tell me." he mutters, eyes squeezing shut. " _Ugh,_ I can't believe he had to listen to me talk about  _girls!_ That's so embarrassing!" Lance sighs, smile returning to fond. His hand falls off his face and finds Keith's other arm.

Keith's mouth is dry, but he tries to swallow anyway, tries to speak. "I'm sure," he rasps quietly, "he understands. And he's just happy you accept him."

Lance's smile outshines the sun; warm and grateful, and happier than Keith can describe. He hugs Keith again, squeezes him tightly but thankfully keeps him on the ground this time.

Lance lets go with a gasp.

"The buses!" he yelps, scrambling down the hall. "Mamá will kill me if I miss my bus!" He gets as far as the fork in the hallway before twisting around to wave back at Keith. "Bye, Keith!!" he calls, bouncing on the spot. "I'll see you tomorrow!!" He turns again and sprints away, a spring in his step.

Keith just stands there, dazed.

It takes a long, solid minute for his brain to catch up with everything that just happened, but once it does, a huge, face-splitting smiles curls his lips. He tightly grasps the straps of his backpack, standing a little straighter and adjusting the heavy bag.

Lance accepts him. He hugged him, he turned down  _Jenny Baker_ for him, but more importantly?

 

Lance used his name.

 

 

 


	4. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I had to change because of s7/the Lance book:
> 
>   * Kosmo's name
>   * I got Marco and Luis backwards (went back and fixed in the last chapter)
> 

> 
> Things I Refuse to change after s7/the Lance book:
> 
>   * *batman voice* _Rachel_
>   * All space animals are Moms, fite me.
> 

> 
>  
> 
> This took forever but for good reason. It literally more than  _doubled_ the word count of the entire fic. Please let that sink in.
> 
> And enjoy. ♡

Keith would never say he  _skipped_  home, but there was definitely bouncing, jumping, dancing, and okay fine,  _maybe_  some skipping.

Unlike Lance, Keith doesn't take the bus. He only lives a few blocks away from the school, a walk that usually takes maybe five minutes, but today Keith is sure he ran it in under one.

His heart is still racing, soaring even, as he unlocks the back gate. He can already hear Kosmo barking for him.

"Hey, girl!" he coos as he opens the backdoor. The black and grey husky comes bounding out, circling Keith excitedly. She jumps up and plants her front paws on his shoulders, almost knocking him over. Keith laughs as she licks his face. He gently pushes her off. "Go on, do your thing."

He smiles as she runs out into the tiny yard, sniffing all her favorite spots methodically. Keith goes inside, shutting the door behind him. He drops his bag and toes off his shoes. "Dad!" he calls. "I'm home!"

No answer.

Keith pokes his head into the kitchen: no dad. He checks the living room: dad located! He's asleep on the couch, still fully dressed, one foot on the floor, the other slung over the armrest. Keith smiles and shakes his head. He tiptoes over to his sleeping father and starts to unlace his heavy boots, pulling them off gently.

A muffled ringtone starts playing.

Keith's heart skips a beat. He glances around the room for his dad's tablet, checking his bag and even under the couch, before spotting it wedged between his dad and the couch. Keith gingerly pries it free and answers the call.

"Hi, Mom!"

The slightly grainy, poorly buffered image of his mother breaks into a huge grin. "Keith! Sweetheart!" Keith slides down onto the floor in front of the couch. It's dark wherever Mom is. "How are you? How's Dad?"

Keith raises the tablet enough to show off his passed-out father. "Asleep. He must've had a rough shift--I don't think he was home when I left for school..."

His mother clicks her tongue and purses her lips. "And what about your aunt? Is she at least checking in on you?"

Keith makes a noncommittal noise. "Uncle Hiroki is still in the hospital, so she hasn't really had time... And Takashi is studying for finals, so..."

His mother sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. " _What was the point of moving all the way..._ " She groans and shakes her head. "Are you alright? Are you eating enough?"

Keith nods. "Dad still makes dinner every night and I get plenty at school. Don't worry, Mom." He smiles. "I'm doing fine. I've got Dad, I've got Kosmo, I've got my friends--you don't need to worry about me."

She perks up a little at  _friends_. "How is school?" she asks carefully.

Keith can't help the gooey smile he melts into. "It's good... There's this dance on Friday, and I asked someone..."

"Did he say yes?"

Keith frowns. "Who said it was a he?"

"Keith, please. I am your mother." she deadpans. "Of course I know it's a he."

"Dad told you?"

"Dad told me." She sighs and smiles warmly. "Sweetheart, you know you can tell me these things. I'll always love you, no matter who you love or what you do, you'll always be my little Starshine." She pauses. "Unless you enlist. Don't do that."

Keith laughs. "Don't let Grandpa Kol hear you say that."

She scoffs. " _The General_  can kiss my ass. If he wants my son he has to go through me." Keith cackles; she smiles. "Soo," she prods, "this boy. What's his name?"

"Lance." Keith admits quietly, blushing.

His mother nods, a knowing smirk on her lips. " _Uh huh..._  And what did this  _Lance_  say? Did he say yes? Deployment be damned, I will  _swim_  back and  _fight a child_ \--no one turns down  _my_  son."

"He said yes!" Keith laughs.

She grins. "Good! He'd be an idiot to say no to someone so special!"

" _Mom!_ " Keith whines, covering his face as his mother laughs.

" _It's true!_ " She sighs fondly. "You really are something special, Starshine. You're going to do great things."

Before Keith can say anything, his mom looks somewhere off-screen and scowls. "I'm sorry, Keith. I have to go."

He sighs, trying to hide his disappointment. "Okay. I love you, Mom. Be safe."

She smiles, the expression pained. "Always. I love you."

"One hundred and thirteen days?"

She nods. "One hundred and thirteen days." she says like a promise, and then she's gone. The call cuts off and he's left with his dad's lock screen: an old photo of his parents and him from when he could barely walk.

Keith sighs and locks the tablet, letting his head fall back onto the couch. He glances up at his father: still asleep. He slides down further, listening to his dad's light snoring and the soft sounds of the house settling.

A distant scratching and whining draws Keith's attention.

He gathers himself up and pads over to the backdoor to let Kosmo back in. She runs straight into the living room and jumps on his dad.

He yelps, bolting upright. With a complaint and a shove, he pushes the dog onto the floor. Kosmo quickly gets back up and runs in a circle before planting her butt and barking at the man. He groans. " _Kosmo, c'mon girl..._ " He rubs his neck, popping his shoulders and running a large hand over his face. The dark bags under his eyes look like bruises. He gives a start when he notices his son. "Keith!" He smiles brightly, like he hadn't just woken up. "How long've you been home?"

Keith returns the smile. "Not long." he lies. "Mom called."

The man sighs, swinging his foot down to meet the other on the floor. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I sat right next to you." Keith laughs, herding Kosmo into the kitchen. "You were out cold."

"I'm sorry, kiddo." he calls from the living room while Keith dumps kibble into Kosmo's bowl. "There was a call at an apartment complex last night--fire spread to multiple units."

"It's okay." Keith answers, trying hard not to think about his sleep-deprived father running into a burning building repeatedly. "Are  _you_  okay?" he asks softly, tilting his head back to look at his dad as he shuffles into the kitchen behind him.

He smiles wearily. It makes him look too old. "When am I not?" he whispers and leans down to place a kiss on the crown of Keith's head. "But enough about me! How was school?"

Keith shrugs and slides into one of the kitchen chairs. "S'okay."

His dad quirks an eyebrow at him. " _Just_  okay?"

Keith bites back a smile, feeling his cheeks warm over. "Well, maybe  _a little better_ than okay..."

"Oh?" His dad pulls out the chair across from him. He lifts and spins it, and sits down backwards, arms folded atop the backrest. He rests his chin on his arms and smiles encouragingly.

Keith can't hide his grin anymore, but he does cast his eyes downward and pick at a crack on the table. "I may have... Asked... Lance... To the dance..." he says quietly. His dad knows about Lance, but not the whole secret admirer thing.

"Aaaand...?"

Keith chews his lip, swinging his legs. "And he said yes."

His dad slaps his hands down on the table. "This calls for pancakes." he announces. Keith laughs. His dad rises from the table and beelines for the fridge. "Chocolate chip pancakes and bacon and eggs--sunny side up?"

Keith grins brightly and goes to the pantry to look for the pancake mix. "Breakfast for dinner?"

"Of course!" His dad kicks the fridge closed, arms precariously full of ingredients. "What better way to celebrate? My little man--goin' on his first date!"

" _Daaad!_ "

He laughs. "What?" he asks innocently.

"You and Mom are  _so embarrassing!_ "

A warm, fond smile spreads across his face. "You told Mom?"

Keith does his tomato impression. " _'Course I told Mom..._ " he mumbles.

His dad sets down his armful of stuff on the counter and wraps Keith in a hug. "I love you, Keith." he whispers into his hair.

Keith curls his hands into the front of his dad's shirt and buries his face in his chest. He smells faintly of smoke and sweat. Keith presses closer and wraps his arms around him instead. "Love you too, Dad..."

The moment lasts just a tick longer, and then his dad tightens his hold and lifts Keith off the ground. Keith yelps; his dad cackles.

"Now--Pancakes!!"

Keith is laughing too by the time he gets set back down. "Pancakes!" he agrees, mirroring his father and rolling up his sleeves.

 

 

 

 

 

  

[Lancey Lance]: Sorry again for not being able to talk much yesterday :(

[Mystery Boy♡]: It's OK

[Lancey Lance]: I still can't believe you're a boy!!  
[Lancey Lance]: And an 8th grader!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Lmao would you believe I thought you might be one of those bitty 7th graders for a while?

[Mystery Boy♡]: Well you also thought I was a girl, so.

[Lancey Lance]: UGH  
[Lancey Lance]: Don't remind me.  
[Lancey Lance]: Again, I am so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so s  
[Lancey Lance]: o so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so SO sorry :(

[Mystery Boy♡]: It's fine. I get it.

[Lancey Lance]: It's not fine!  
[Lancey Lance]: I feel like a jerk!  
[Lancey Lance]: If I were you I would've given up after the first day

[Mystery Boy♡]: Well it's a good thing I'm not you then. :P  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Besides  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Some people are worth a little misgendering ;)

[Lancey Lance]: WHAT  
[Lancey Lance]: DID  
[Lancey Lance]: I  
[Lancey Lance]: DO  
[Lancey Lance]: TO  
[Lancey Lance]: DESERVE  
[Lancey Lance]: YOU  
[Lancey Lance]: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[Mystery Boy♡]: Exist?

[Lancey Lance]: ASDFGHJKLYWTYNSLIVY QEBKHCATYGOIQEB NKLYUAYG  
[Lancey Lance]: SHOT THRU THE HEART!!!

[Mystery Boy♡]: My aim's not that good

[Lancey Lance]: STABBED IN THE GENERAL CHEST AREA

[Mystery Boy♡]: Better

[Lancey Lance]: XD  
[Lancey Lance]: Oh shit sorry I gotta go

 

"Keith!"

Keith quickly stashes his phone as Lance runs up to him.

"Hey!" Lance smiles brightly, trying to catch his breath.

"Hey?" Keith can't keep the huge, pleased smile off his face. Had Lance really just paused talking to his secret admirer for  _him?_

"Sorry I ran out on you yesterday."

Keith shrugs. "S'okay. Catching your bus is a pretty good reason to run off."

Lance giggles. "Oh!" He swings his backpack off and drops it in front of him. He pulls out two 3DSs. "Here!"

Keith just blinks at the proffered game system. "You...were serious?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Duh! Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it!"

Keith bites over a grin, flexing his grip on his backpack straps. "Can I use that one?" he asks sheepishly, nodding to the 3DS in Lance's other hand.

Lance blinks down at the blue one. "Fire type master doesn't want red?" he asks, shaking the one he offered Keith.

"Mega Charizard."

Lance grins. "That is a good goddamn point." He extends the blue one; Keith takes it. "Oh, hang on, then." He pops the game cartridge out. "Trade." Keith copies him and they exchange games.

Keith looks down at the game: Pokemon X, but if that was in the console Lance was originally trying to give him... "This is your game." he says dumbly. "I thought I was going to play your brother's copy of Y?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "And stick you with the lame Mega Charizard? Nah."

Keith absolutely beams and pops the cartridge in.

"'Sup, losers." Pidge greets. She nods at the games. "What're those for?"

"Gen six replay." Lance says casually.

"Noice. Can Hunk and I get in on that?"

"Can me and you do whaty-what now?" Hunk asks as he approaches.

"Gen six replay."

"Oh heck yeah! Love me some French Pokemon!"

The first bell rings and Lance quickly throws his locker open. "My only condition for using my 3DS--please don't get it confiscated."

Keith snorts. "Don't worry, it's not like I'm going to play it class." he says as he tucks the game in his bag.

Lance frowns. "Then why are you putting it in your-- _cheesus christ._ " Lance tries to snatch away Keith's bag but fails to lift it off the floor, managing only to slide it a few inches. " _Dude,_  what the _hell_ \--do you keep  _bricks_  in here!? No wonder you're so short!"

Keith scoffs and scoops his bag up, throwing it over his shoulder. "Not all of us are freaks of puberty."

Lance stares, though he looks more impressed than incredulous. " _So that's why you always kick my butt in gym..._ " he mumbles. He quickly shakes his head and doubles down on his frown. "Seriously though. Why is your bag so  _heavy?_ "

Keith shrugs. "Dunno my locker combination so I just carry everything with me."

"You... _what?"_

"Yeah, when I transferred last Fall, they gave me this, like, little slip of paper with my locker info on it, but--I dunno--I guess I must've dropped it or something." Keith shrugs, adjusting the weight on his back. "Don't know my combination--don't even know which locker's supposed to be mine."

"You... You've never been in your locker." Lance states, not quite a question.

Keith shakes his head. "Nope."

Lance's brows draw together. He looks like he's trying to work out a complicated math problem in his head. His confusion only seems to worsen but then it lifts and his expression is left light and clear. "You can use mine!"

"What?"

"Yeah!" Lance quickly pulls out a marker and grabs Keith's hand. He scribbles what is, presumably, his combination on the inside of Keith's arm. "So you don't have to lug all your books everywhere!"

Keith blinks at him, then at the numbers on his skin. "But... Why?"

Lance's grin is lopsided and carefree. "Because that's what friends do,  _duh!_ " He caps his marker and holds his locker door open. "Now hurry up or we'll be late!"

Keith, despite his reservations, quickly swings his bag off and throws a bunch of books into the locker. Lance slams it shut and grabs his hand, taking off down the hall before Keith can even shoulder his bag again.

 

* * *

 

[Lancey Lance]: Sorry about earlier

[Mystery Boy♡]: That's alright ♡

[Lancey Lance]: You really are amazing ♡ ♡ ♡

[Mystery Boy♡]: So I've been told repeatedly by this cute boy...

[Lancey Lance]: Asdfghjkoiuywehmhb  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm such a mess  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm so glad you can't see me right now  
[Lancey Lance]: It's like  
[Lancey Lance]: I've never liked a boy before???  
[Lancey Lance]: Well  
[Lancey Lance]: Okay actually maybe I have????????  
[Lancey Lance]: But not like  
[Lancey Lance]: I didn't KNOW I like-liked him  
[Lancey Lance]: U feel??

[Mystery Boy♡]: I do.

[Lancey Lance]: So it's like  
[Lancey Lance]: I don't know!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm so nervous now!  
[Lancey Lance]: Like all my practice talking to girls means NOTHING!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm usually so smooth...

[Mystery Boy♡]: You did fine when you thought I was a girl.  
[Mystery Boy♡]: And I don't know what reality you live in, but you've always sort of been a mess.

[Lancey Lance]: >:O !!!  
[Lancey Lance]: RUDE!

[Mystery Boy♡]: :P  
[Mystery Boy♡]: An adorable mess

[Lancey Lance]: F U CK

[Mystery Boy♡]: Listen  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I fell for a dorky mess, not a smooth pick up artist.

[Lancey Lance]: U G H  
[Lancey Lance]: HOW CAN YOU BE SO C U T E!!!

[Mystery Boy♡]: Just about to ask you the same thing :P

[Lancey Lance]: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
[Lancey Lance]: THIS ISN'T FAIR!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I HAVE LITERALLY *NO* IDEA WHO YOU ARE

[Mystery Boy♡]: That's sort of the point of the whole SECRET admirer thing

[Lancey Lance]: NO I MEAN  
[Lancey Lance]: When I thought you were a girl I thought for SURE I could Sherlock that out  
[Lancey Lance]: And now I??  
[Lancey Lance]: ??????????  
[Lancey Lance]: You're a got damn mystery

[Mystery Boy♡]: Well I have heard you call me mystery girl...

[Lancey Lance]: NUH UH  
[Lancey Lance]: NOPE  
[Lancey Lance]: Who do you take me for??  
[Lancey Lance]: You're mystery BOY!  
[Lancey Lance]: My future husband! >:3c

 

A sudden coughing fit startles Lance and draws his attention. "You okay?" he hisses over at Keith.

The other boy nods quickly, smacking his chest.

Lance frowns and grabs his water bottle from his bag and hands it to Keith. He takes it and chugs nearly half of it.

" _Thank you._ " he croaks, handing it back.

Lance just nods, stunned into concerned silence.

Keith swallows hard and clears his throat. "Fucking choked on spit."

Lance snorts; Keith shoots him a glare. He glances at his phone: no reply yet. Lance pockets his phone again until, a few minutes later, gentle vibrations alert him to a new text.

 

[Mystery Boy♡]: Sorry, teacher was watching.

[Lancey Lance]: Lol

[Mystery Boy♡]: How can you say that so easily??

[Lancey Lance]: Lol?

[Mystery Boy♡]: No  
[Mystery Boy♡]: "future husband"  
[Mystery Boy♡]: GOD  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Just typing it is hard

[Lancey Lance]: Too much? :(

[Mystery Boy♡]: Well we are 13

[Lancey Lance]: Sorry  
[Lancey Lance]: I won't do it again.

[Mystery Boy♡]: Ugh  
[Mystery Boy♡]: No  
[Mystery Boy♡]: That's not

[Lancey Lance]: What?

[Mystery Boy♡]: I like you  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I REALLY really like you

[Lancey Lance]: But you're still worried I won't like you?

[Mystery Boy♡]: Yeah :(

[Lancey Lance]: So I don't know WHO you are  
[Lancey Lance]: But I do know YOU  
[Lancey Lance]: You're shy and funny and sarcastic  
[Lancey Lance]: Clever af  
[Lancey Lance]: Seriously how did you David Blaine that note into my locker yesterday??  
[Lancey Lance]: I know you're thoughtful  
[Lancey Lance]: And caring  
[Lancey Lance]: As much as I wish I could ease your worries the fact that you DO worry so much means SO much to me.  
[Lancey Lance]: Love is love.  
[Lancey Lance]: I love you all the same after learning you're a boy  
[Lancey Lance]: And I'll love you when I finally meet you  
[Lancey Lance]: No matter what.  
[Lancey Lance]: Future husband. ;)

[Mystery Boy♡]: What if I'm not everything you're expecting?

[Lancey Lance]: Doubtful.

[Mystery Boy♡]: But what if I'm not?  
[Mystery Boy♡]: What if you like me now but don't like me later?  
[Mystery Boy♡]: What if once the mystery is gone you realize I was never that great?  
[Mystery Boy♡]: What if I'm someone you hate...

[Lancey Lance]: First of all, I don't think I hate anybody??  
[Lancey Lance]: And second, of COURSE I'll still like you without the mystery!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Are you kidding???  
[Lancey Lance]: I've been DYING to meet you since your first note!!  
[Lancey Lance]: AND ANOTHER THING!  
[Lancey Lance]: Maybe you're right. Maybe I won't like you later.  
[Lancey Lance]: But not like  
[Lancey Lance]: This Friday later tho  
[Lancey Lance]: Maybe we'll go thru high school and drift apart  
[Lancey Lance]: Maybe we'll be completely different people in 5 years  
[Lancey Lance]: Maybe I'll see you at a cafe in Paris in 20 years and realize I've made a terrible mistake but it's too late  
[Lancey Lance]: God I sound like Pidge  
[Lancey Lance]: My point is  
[Lancey Lance]: I like you NOW  
[Lancey Lance]: And that's what matters

[Mystery Boy♡]: Ur so dramatic  
[Mystery Boy♡]: How can you say all that and still say we'll get married?

[Lancey Lance]: A bitch's gotta have goals  
[Lancey Lance]: (U3U\\)  
[Lancey Lance]: (U3U)/~♡

[Mystery Boy♡]: How about  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Just don't say you love me until you've met me.

[Lancey Lance]: Fiiiiiiiine  
[Lancey Lance]: I just super really like-like you for all eternity  
[Lancey Lance]: Future husband. ;)

[Mystery Boy♡]: Fucking nerd

[Lancey Lance]: Cutie pie :3

 

" _Lance._ " Mr. Smythe says loudly. "Second warning."

"Sorry," he mumbles, quickly stashing his phone.  _Ugh_ , what even is the teacher teaching about? Lance doesn't care. His focus drifts over to Keith. He's doodling something in his notes. "Whazzat?" he hisses.

Keith startles and immediately scribbles out whatever he was drawing. " _Nothing._ "

Lance snorts. "I didn't know you could draw."

Keith pauses and tilts his head to give Lance an incredulous look. "We're in the same art class."

Lance just shrugs. "You any good?"

Keith considers that, chewing on his lip. "I could show you my sketchbook later if you want..."

"Ooh! Draw something for me!!"

"Like what?"

Lance almost says  _me_ before remembering all those artist memes. "How about... Dandelions!"

Keith blinks at him, almost stunned, before he breaks into a tiny smile and nods. "Sure."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Uhh... What'cha doin', Buddy?"

Keith hardly pays Hunk any mind, too focused on the task at hand. He tears another page out of his sketchbook.

Suddenly Pidge snorts. " _Oh wow..._ "

Keith snatches the paper out of her hand and slaps it back on the pile with a glare. She grins.

"So I'm going to take a wild guess and say Lance wants to see your sketchbook, and this is you doing damage control..."

Keith glowers at her as he tears another page out.  _Shit-eating, thy name is Pidge._

" _Aww!_ "

Keith snaps his attention to Hunk and yanks the paper away from him.

"Just how many doodles of..." Pidge lifts a random sketch from the stack. "... _Keith McClain_ , do you have?"

Keith groans, head falling onto the table with a solid  _thunk_. "Just kill me now..." he whines.

Hunk gasps quietly. " _A beach wedding!"_ he coos.

Keith groans again, covering his head with his sketchbook.

"Chill, dude. It's not like we're going to tell Lance about these." Suddenly there's a hand on his back that must belong to Pidge. "Besides, you should've seen Hunk when he got back from Science Camp last summer."

Hunk squawks indignantly. Keith peaks out just enough to smile at them.

"And unlike him, you've actually got artistic talent."

Hunk pouts and puffs out his cheeks, glaring at Pidge. He throws a much kinder expression at Keith. "She's right, though. These are like, _really_ good."

Keith sits up a little. "You think so?"

Pidge nods. "Definitely. I mean, you maybe watch too much anime, but hey, for eighth grade? They're like the Mona Lisa."

Keith pouts at her.

"What she's trying to say," Hunk adds, "is that they're cute." He smiles teasingly. " _Just like you._ " He says and pokes Keith in the cheek.

" _I'm not cute._ " Keith grumbles, swatting Hunk's hand away.

Pidge snorts. "Keith, my good bitch, you're fucking  _adorable._ "

His head hits the table again with a long groan.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Keith!"

Lance bounds up to the other boy, who's standing at his locker, frowning at his arm. He looks up when Lance calls to him.

"Getting your Spanish books?" Lance asks, leaning into the locker next to his.

Keith finished dialing the lock and jiggles the latch, but nothing happens; he scowls. "Trying." he says, twisting his arm to see the numbers. "But I can't--" He rattles the lock again and groans. "-- _Get it._ " He lets his head fall against the metal door.

"Here," Lance steps up beside him and gently hip-checks him aside. He opens his locker with ease. Keith just pouts harder. "Have you ever opened a combination lock before?"

Keith shakes his head. "We had keys at my old school..."

"And you never got into your locker here." Lance says with an understanding smile. "Okay." He closes the door again; Keith gives him a weird look. "So here's how you do it." He nods at the lock for Keith to pay attention. "You have to turn it to the right a few times,  _then_ to the first number. Now we go all the way around to the left, and then the second number. And then right to the last one, and..." He opens the locker. "Ta-da!" He closes it again. "Now you try!"

A bell rings overhead, Lance isn't sure if it's the first or second warning, though. Keith looks up at him with a frown. "But we'll be late to class."

Lance just shrugs. "So?"

Keith looks at him, considering something and chewing his cheek, before he nods and tries the lock again. It takes him a few tries but he gets it eventually, and Lance makes him do it a few more times until he's confident he's got it down. By the time they finally do make it to Spanish, Ms. Plaxum is not amused by their tardiness.

"My locker was jammed." Lance lies as they take their seats. "Keith helped me get it open--it's on me."

The teacher clicks her tongue but eventually relents with a sigh, making only one mark in her attendance book.

Once class starts up again, Keith looks over at him with a frown.

"Don't worry about it." Lance whispers before Keith can even get a word out. "I'm late all the time."

"Aren't you worried about getting detention?"

"Nah." He shrugs with an easy smile.

Keith stares at him, a little wide-eyed, before reaching into his bag and pulling out his sketchbook. He flips it open to one of the last pages and hands it to Lance.

Lance smiles like the sun. The page is filled with lions in old-timey clothes. One is holding a bouquet, another wears a flower crown, and another blows seeds like bubbles.

_Dandy lions with dandelions._

Lance has to bite his tongue to keep from squealing. " _This is soo good!_ Can I take a picture?" he whispers excitedly.

Keith blushes. "You can have it, if you want..."

"Really!?" he exclaims, drawing Ms. Plaxum's attention. He grins sheepishly and shrinks down in his seat. " _Really?"_ he whispers once the teacher's back is turned.

Keith nods, face still tinted pink.

Lance can barely contain his excitement as he carefully tears the page out and hands the sketchbook back. He stealthily takes his phone out and snaps a few pictures before choosing the best one and sending it.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Look what my friend drew!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I asked him to draw dandelions bc you said it was your favorite flower!  
[Lancey Lance]: Do you like it?

[Mystery Boy♡]: I love it ♡

[Lancey Lance]: ♡ ♡ ♡  
[Lancey Lance]: Oh man!!

[Mystery Boy♡]: What?

[Lancey Lance]: I wish I had known what flowers you liked over the weekend!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I went shopping with my mom and ordered a corsage already  
[Lancey Lance]: I hope roses are okay!!

[Mystery Boy♡]: Roses are fine ♡

[Lancey Lance]: OH NO  
[Lancey Lance]: I ordered a corsage!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I should've got another but  
[Lancey Lance]: Boot n  
[Lancey Lance]: Fuck  
[Lancey Lance]: How do you spell boot in near?

[Mystery Boy♡]: Boutonniere.

[Lancey Lance]: Life saver ♡

[Mystery Boy♡]: Lol  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Either is fine  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I've never gotten flowers before.

[Lancey Lance]: Whaaaaaaaat!

[Mystery Boy♡]: We're 13. It's not like we've had many flower-receiving occasions anyway.

[Lancey Lance]: Birthdays!!  
[Lancey Lance]: School plays!  
[Lancey Lance]: Special Sundays!  
[Lancey Lance]: Just because!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: My mama gets me flowers all the time! Even if they're just from her garden :(  
[Lancey Lance]: Don't your parents give you special things to celebrate stuff?

[Mystery Boy♡]: My dad made breakfast for dinner last night?

[Lancey Lance]: Perfect!!  
[Lancey Lance]: What were you celebrating?

[Mystery Boy♡]: Um  
[Mystery Boy♡]: You.

[Lancey Lance]: ??

[Mystery Boy♡]: I  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Told my dad I asked you out...

[Lancey Lance]: !!!!!!!!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: You told your dad about me!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: ?

[Mystery Boy♡]: Yeah  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Is that okay? :(

[Lancey Lance]: No no that's great!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I tell my mom about you all the time!!  
[Lancey Lance]: AAAAAAHH!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm so excited!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Your parents know about me!!  
[Lancey Lance]: OH NO!!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Do they like me???  
[Lancey Lance]: Does ur dad think I'm good enough for his son???  
[Lancey Lance]: Is he gonna be all protective when I meet him??

[Mystery Boy♡]: haha my dad's a big softy  
[Mystery Boy♡]: And yes, he likes what he's heard about you :)  
[Mystery Boy♡]: My mom tho...

[Lancey Lance]: Beware mama bear  
[Lancey Lance]: Got it xD

[Mystery Boy♡]: What about your mom?

[Lancey Lance]: Oh she loves you

[Mystery Boy♡]: Lmao

[Lancey Lance]: She's already adopted you I think  
[Lancey Lance]: In her mind you're already a McClain lol  
[Lancey Lance]: Oh or a  
[Lancey Lance]: McClain-your last name  
[Lancey Lance]: Or your last name-McClain  
[Lancey Lance]: Up to you ;P

[Mystery Boy♡]: I like McClain ♡

[Lancey Lance]: Really???  
[Lancey Lance]: But  
[Lancey Lance]: What about your name??

[Mystery Boy♡]: I've run the numbers  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Just McClain sounds the best ;)

[Lancey Lance]: You've  
[Lancey Lance]: !!!!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Do you write our names together???  
[Lancey Lance]: Like in a heart and everything???

[Mystery Boy♡]: Maybe  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Future husband. >///>

[Lancey Lance]: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: YOU  
[Lancey Lance]: ARE  
[Lancey Lance]: TOO  
[Lancey Lance]: PRECIOUS!!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

 

Lance squirms in his seat, failing to hide his smile and his excitement. " _Keith!_ " he hisses. He flaps a hand at the other boy until he looks over. " _You've gotta see this!_ " He hands him his phone without a second thought.

Keith is bright red almost before he even reads it. He scrolls through the conversation a moment, failing just as badly as Lance at not smiling. " _'S cute._ " he squeaks.

" _Right!?_ " Lance rasps lowly. He takes his phone back, leg bouncing with no other way to burn his giddy energy. There's a word on his tongue that fills his heart and brain with cotton candy. "Hey... You think..."

"Hm?"

Lance swallows thickly. "Do you think he'll be my boyfriend?"

Keith chokes into a coughing fit, pressing a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise and avoid drawing Ms. Plaxum's attention.

Lance frowns. "Is that a no?"

Keith clears his throat, face on fire, and glares at Lance. " _You call him your future husband!"_

"Yeah, but... We're just kids and that's just flirting... It's not like, real? Y'know?" Lance worries his lip between his teeth. "I guess... I dunno, I guess it just sorta felt like a game before, but... But I really like him. I get to meet him! Tomorrow!! Everything's getting so...so..."

"Real?"

Lance nods, acutely aware of the heat in his face.

Keith doesn't respond. He just flips to the next page in his notebook and starts drawing something, glancing up at the teacher every so often to make it look like he's actually paying attention. After a few minutes, he slides the notebook to the edge of his desk for Lance to see.

It's a rushed little doodle of-- _OMG!_ _That's him!!_ \--of Lance holding hands with a figure whose face is a big question mark.  _'You can do it!'_ is written above their heads in big, encouraging bubble letters. Lance grins and, the second Ms. Plaxum's back is turned, reaches over and quickly scrawls a bunch of hearts around the drawing, adding  _'thank you!'_  and a smiley face underneath, before plopping back down in his seat just as the teacher turns again.

He spends the rest of the class grinning into his hand, failing but not even trying to pay attention to the lesson.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Thank you again for the picture."

Keith can't look at Lance as they make their way to his locker. "'S nothing..." he mumbles shyly. Lance steps aside and leans against Pidge's locker, motioning for Keith to open his. It still takes him two tries to actually unlock it.

"It's not nothing--it's really,  _really_ good!" Lance praises, admiring the goofy lions again. He had slipped the picture into the front pocket of one of his binders. "No one's ever drawn something for me before. Well, my little cousin Ana, but she's four and not very good." He grins lopsidedly at Keith. "We McClains tend to lean more towards the Interpersonal and Bodily-Kinesthetic than Spatial."

Keith gawks at him. "Did you just make a _psychology_ joke?" he asks, impressed.

Lance shrugs. "Hey, if there's a personality quiz for it, I probably know it." Keith laughs; Lance absolutely beams. "Speaking of which, do you even know how funny it is that you're a Scorpio but like fire-type Pokemon?"

Keith's nose scrunches up in confusion. "Why is that funny and what's a Scorpio?"

Lance giggles as he reaches into the locker and pulls out his science textbook, passing Keith his English book at the same time. "Scorpio is a zodiac sign. You know what the zodiac is, don't you?"

"Oh. Yeah..."

Lance snorts. "Scorpio is a water sign, but you prefer fire Pokemon. That's why it's funny."

Keith considers this for a long moment. "How do you know my birthday?"

Lance gives a start, accidentally knocking a mountain of old papers out of his locker. They hit the floor with a magnificent  _plap_ and fan out around their feet. Lance stutters and scrambles to pick them all up. Keith bends over to help without a second thought.

"I-I, uh..." Lance clears his throat. "You, uh, probably don't remember but... I was your new student ambassador when you transferred..."

"You were?"

Lance nods, face tinted pink for some reason. "Yeah but, you didn't... Uh..." He finishes gathering the papers into a sloppy bundle in his arms; Keith hands him the stack he collected. Lance shoves the mess back into the locker, squished between two heavy textbooks. He stares into the chaos for a moment before speaking again. "I was assigned to be your ambassador--y'know, show you around, help you adjust... They gave me a little, like,  _get-to-know-you_ card, but... You wouldn't--I mean I couldn't get you to, um... Talk. To me." he finishes quietly.

"Oh." Keith says eloquently. Why is his throat suddenly so tight? "Sorry." he mumbles, shifting his weight between his feet.

Lance shakes his head vigorously, like Kosmo after a bath, and gives Keith a blinding grin. "Don't worry about it! That was, like, a million years ago!"

Keith scoffs, smile curling over his teeth. "It was  _October._ "

"And now it's May!" Lance kicks the locker closed and throws an arm over Keith's shoulders. "See? Literal years."

Keith laughs as Lance tugs him away, keeping his arm around him. They amble down the hall, Lance hugging him perhaps a bit too close--they keep stepping on each other's feet. They're two classrooms down before Keith speaks up.

"Lance?"

"Hm?"

"Where are you going?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Science room is the other way."

They both stop.

A beat of silence.

Lance rips his arm away, stumbling back a few steps and windmilling his arms to catch his balance.

His face is bright red.

"OH YEAH I WAS JUST--I MEAN--I'LL SEE YOU AT LUNCH!" he says loudly, voice crackling like a cheese grater over gravel. He sprints back the way they came, tripping over his own feet and nearly face-planting but manages to catch himself at the last second. He straightens, spins, and, while jogging backwards, grins sheepishly back at Keith as if to say  _I'm okay!_

Keith just stands there. Staring. Blinking.

_Well that was weird._

 

 

 

What's even weirder, though, is that Lance doesn't text Mystery Boy all of fourth period.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Keith is late to lunch.

Lance tells himself it's fine, that he's not bothered, but it's  _not_ and he  _is._  He bounces his leg restlessly, antsy, eyes darting to the door and the lunch line every three seconds. He almost sighs with relief when the other boy finally shows up.

"Hey." Keith mumbles as he sits down next to him.

"Keith!" he greets brightly, hoping like hell his worry doesn't show through. "What took you?"

Keith fidgets and looks away, shaggy hair hiding his face from Lance, and--why does that make Lance's chest so tight?

"You weren't at your locker..." Keith says quietly, fiddling with his lunch money on the table.

Lance's stomach drops.

_He was waiting for him._

"I--!" He swallows roughly, putting his sandwich down. "Sorry, I-I always just come straight here. I, um," His gaze flicks desperately to Hunk and Pidge across the table, silently begging for help.

Pidge just grins wickedly at him as she takes a slow bite of her hamburger while maintaining eye contact. Lance glares at her with a little shake of his head and a curled lip.

Hunk, bless his heart, at least has his back.

"My bad!" the headband angel chimes in. "Lance keeps his lunch in his bag so he can snack in class--that's why he didn't stop at his locker. I should've said something when we got out of English."

Lance watches as Keith seems to consider this. Thankfully, he nods after a moment, straightening up and brushing his hair back. Lance's heart skips a beat when he's able to see his face again, but he quickly stamps down the feeling and tells himself he's just relieved that he's not mad at him.

"Oh, Lance."

His heartbeat stumbles again. "Y-yeah?" he stutters.

Keith reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. "This was in your locker."

Lance accepts the note and his heart just about stops the moment his eyes land on the message.

 

_Did you get your phone taken?  
♡_

 

Lance chokes. " _Shit._ " he bites out, immediately digging his phone out of his bag. He hears Pidge laugh at him but he ignores her. Keith says something about going to get his lunch and leaves the table.

 

 

[Lancey Lance]: I'M SORRY!!  
[Lancey Lance]: I still have my phone!!

[Mystery Boy♡]: You didn't reply to any of my texts last period...

 

Lance glances further up the conversation and crumbles as he sees that he does, in fact, have several new texts.

 

[Lancey Lance]: I'M NOT IGNORING YOU I PROMISE!!!  
[Lancey Lance]: :(((  
[Lancey Lance]: We were talking about space and wormholes and shit in class  
[Lancey Lance]: It was really cool :(

[Mystery Boy♡]: Oh my god you were actually paying attention in class?

 

Lance exhales, the vice on his heart letting up. A small smile works its way back onto his lips.  _Teasing._ For a second there, he thought he was mad.

 

[Lancey Lance]: Shut up!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Space is awesome!!  
[Lancey Lance]: Remember when we had to read ender's game for mr thace's class last winter?  
[Lancey Lance]: I don't think I've ever scored better on a book analysis before.

[Mystery Boy♡]: Nerd.

[Lancey Lance]: SPACE! IS! AWESOME!

[Mystery Boy♡]: Lol ♡  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I'm sorry I overreacted  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I should've known better.  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I just missed you...

 

Lance gasps. He moans something awful and falls face-first onto the table just as Keith comes back.

"Everything alright in paradise?" Pidge asks smugly.

"I just love him so much!" Lance whines.

Pidge chokes on her hamburger; Hunk spits out his drink.

" _HIM?!_ " they shout in unison.

Lance blinks up at them. He smiles sheepishly. "Did I...not mention that?"

"No! No you did not!" Pidge cries accusingly.

" _Dude!_ " Hunk whines, sounding hurt. "That's huge!"

Lance shrugs, sliding back upright, not caring how warm and dopey his smile is. "Yes and no? It was definitely a surprise, but it doesn't change anything."

" _How_ are you not freaking out about this!?" Pidge demands.

Lance opens his mouth but Keith cuts him off. "Oh, he definitely freaked out."

Lance snaps his mouth shout and can't help the burning blush on his cheeks, or the barely contained grin straining his cheeks.

"What!" Hunk cries. " _Keith_ knew?!"

" _Bro_ , why didn't you say anything!"

Keith just shrugs helplessly. "Not my place?"

Pidge and Hunk pout aggressively at him.

" _Details._ I want details." Pidge says, jabbing a spork at Keith.

"What! Why're you asking him!" Lance cries.

Pidge shifts her threatening spork to him. "Because you'll lie about it." Back to Keith. "Tell me everything. I want to know how Lance's gay panic went down."

Lance scoffs indignantly, and Keith, _the traitor_ , actually smiles, like he's trying not to laugh.

"Well first off,  _panic_  is not the word I'd use..."

Lance eyes him warily but keeps his mouth shut, lips pursed.

Keith huffs a little laugh to himself, nervously tucking his hair behind his ear. "He...handled it really well, actually."

"You said he freaked out." Pidge sulks.

Keith chuckles. "Yeah, but like, in a good way? Like, a puppy when they get to ride in the car, but then the car ride leads to a dog park."

" _Aww!_ " Hunk coos. "That's so descriptive!"

"Yeah, Keith," Pidge smirks, "you should write poetry."

He flicks a tater tot at her, glaring daggers.

"So everything's good, then?" Hunk asks Lance. "No existential crisis?"

Lance smiles, picking at the crust of his sandwich. "Nah. It was... It just  _was_. Like Keith said, it was a good freak out."

"He said it was better that they're a boy." Keith says, smirking, as he takes a drink from his milk carton.

Hunk and Pidge gasp, mischievous delight lighting up their faces. Lance lights up like a Christmas tree set on fire.

"THAT'S THE LAST TIME I TELL YOU ANYTHING, KOGANE." he shrieks.

His friends laugh at him, but Lance can't manage to stay affronted more than five seconds, because suddenly Keith's voice bubbles into laughter. It's light and airy and melts away every angry bone in Lance's body. It _is_ a little funny, he guesses...

He does have to spend the rest of lunch explaining to Hunk and Pidge  _why_ he said it was better, and  _no_ , he's not gay. He likes both! All? Everyone, he likes everyone. _What do you mean you already knew?_ Yes, his soul searching only took like a minute-- _stop laughing!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance walks with him to their locker ( _his_ locker, it's  _Lance's locker_ ), after lunch. Keith has to bite back a smile the whole way. He knows Lance needs to grab his art supplies, but he makes such a huge, obvious deal about needing to get them. Keith thinks he feels bad about accidentally ditching him before. He wonders if Lance is going to wait for him between every period now...

"Anything new with Mystery Boy?" Keith asks conversationally as he tries to navigate the precarious Jenga tower that is Lance's locker. "You weren't on your phone much during lunch."

Lance hums and pulls out his phone just enough to glance at it before stuffing it back in his pocket. "I'll reply in a bit." he says lightly.

Keith quirks an eyebrow at him. Lance is usually so excited when he knows he has a new text. Seeing his confusion, Lance gives him a crooked smile and goes to stand behind him and-- _UM_ _,_  why is he leaning over him like that?

"Right now, I don't think you should face this beast alone." he says, grinning down at Keith. He has his arms outstretched, holding the contents of his locker in place so Keith can finish prying these pencils free.

Keith scoffs but can't hide his smile, thankful that Lance can't see him blushing from this angle. "You really need to clean this thing out." he says as he successfully tugs his prize out from the very bottom.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. They'll give us time on the last day though, right after finals. Or at least, that's what they did last year." He laughs. "The teachers, like, patrol the halls, making sure we clean out every last exam and piece of gum. We're issued a fine if we leave our lockers a mess after we leave."

Keith hums. "I should probably go to the office and get my locker info then..."

Lance falters and loses his balance. Keith can see the contents of the locker start to tip into an avalanche, but Lance slams the door shut before anything can actually fall. That's not going to be pretty the next time they open it. "What? Why? You never even used your locker!" Lance splutters.

Keith frowns. "Yeah, but what if someone was using it before me? I don't wanna get fined for a mess I didn't even make..."

Lance presses his lips together in a thin line. "It should still be clean from last year though..."

Keith rolls his eyes and starts heading towards the art room. "Better safe than sorry."

"I guess..." Lance grumbles. "B-But we can worry about that later!" he says quickly, loudly. He grins at Keith with a glint in his eye. "Race you to the art room!"

"Hey!" Keith shouts as Lance takes off.

Keith still beats him, but just barely, and they both get yelled at by the French teacher along the way.

"Soo," Lance starts dramatically once they're seated. He taps the table with his fingertips in a drum roll. "Can I see your sketchbook?" he asks excitedly.

Keith snorts. "You saw it earlier."

"Yeah, but I only saw the one picture! Can I see the rest?"

Keith considers him, trying so,  _so_ hard not to smile at his puppy eyes. "Yeah." he relents after a moment. Lance pumps his fist in the air. "Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't look through it before." Keith muses as he passes his redacted sketchbook over.

Lance hums, delighted, as he flips it open. "You opened it to that one page--it'd've been rude to snoop through the rest."

"But I _offered_ to show it to you..."

Lance can only shrug, too engrossed with Keith's art. "Man, these are  _so good!_ " He flips to the next page and breathes in a little gasp. "Dude!" he laughs.

"What?" Keith replies warily.

Lance lifts the book and shows Keith his own sketch. "It's All Might!"

"Yeah...?" Keith squirms, feeling his face start to burn.

Lance grins and admires the drawing again. "No, it's  _really_ All Might! It looks  _just_ like the comic!"

"Stop..."

"I'm serious! Did you trace it?"

"I mean, I used a reference, but I didn't _trace_ it, no..."

"That's incredible!" Lance sighs, holding up the sketchbook. " _You're_  incredible!" Keith is definitely blushing now. Lance sighs again and flips to the next page, smiling wistfully. "I wish I could draw..."

"I could teach you." Keith blurts. "I-If you want."

Lance's smile is appreciative, if a little sad. "Don't worry about it--I'm a lost cause. Ms. Ryner's had me in class two years now and the nicest thing she's ever said about my art is that I,  _'genuinely try my best to follow directions.'_ Like I said before, my whole family got screwed in the art department..."

"Bullshit."

Lance gives a start and blinks owlishly at Keith.

"With enough practice, patience, and perseverance, anyone can improve any skill."

Lance is stunned a moment longer before huffing a small laugh, face coming to rest in his hand. "Spoken like a true Scorpio..."

Keith frowns. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You always  _deflect_  compliments. It's like you don't  _want_ to feel good about yourself."

Lance's expression scrunches into something unreadable. His shifts his head, squishing his cheek against his fist, and stares at a spot on the table. "What's there to feel good about..." he mutters.

"Are you  _kidding?_ " Keith practically yells. Lance's eyebrows draw together, a smooshed frown on his lips. "Lance, you're  _amazing_. You're funny and creative and one of the nicest people I know!"

"I'm only funny 'cause I'm the youngest." he mumbles. "How else am I supposed to get noticed? Luis got a full ride to Stanford, Ronnie is Valedictorian and a freaking  _Eagle Scout_ , and Marco has his own  _band_." He sighs and slumps onto the table, hiding his face in his arms, muffling his voice. "Meanwhile, I'm not in the same Science class as you, Hunk, and Pidge because I have to take  _remedial_ math. I'm not amazing, I'm just...the  _dumb_ one..."

Keith punches him in the arm,  _hard._

"Ow!" Lance yelps, shooting up. His gingerly rubs his bicep and glares at Keith. "What the heck, man!"

" _You're not dumb._ " Keith spits viciously. "So you suck at math, who cares? You do well in other subjects, like I know for a fact that you  _set_ the grade curve in Spanish. Stop comparing yourself to others, you're amazing in your own way and I'm tired of you trash talking one of my favorite people." His expression softens into a gentle smile. "So quit being so hard on yourself, okay?"

Lance gives him a pouty glare, still holding his bruised arm, but his face quickly lifts into something softer. "You're new to this whole  _comforting_ thing, aren't you?"

Keith flushes deeply again.

"I mean, how can I focus on anything with this  _searing, agonizing pain!_ Hitting me to make me feel better--who does that!" he whines dramatically.

Keith's face burns hotter and hotter, feeling like the skin is about to melt right off. He curls his fingers into the hem of his shirt and glares down at his lap.

" _Seriously_ , Kogane," Lance sighs and falls bodily into Keith's side. "You're no good, I tell you..." There's a long, awkward moment in which Lance doesn't say anything else, but still leans into Keith. He turns his head just enough to press his forehead into his shoulder.

Keith swallows over a lump in his throat, grip loosening on his shirt. His face feels hot for an entirely different reason now. "Lance...?"

The other boy presses just a little closer. "...Thanks, Keith." he mumbles.

Keith's heart leaps into his throat, face burning at a flesh-melting intensity again. He stutters something incoherent but can't seem to form any real words.

Lance finally moves away and Keith misses him immediately. Lance sniffles quietly and scrubs his face on his sleeve, but when he moves his hand away, there's only his usual bright, cheerful smile left in its place. "Now," he starts, voice light and chipper like they didn't just have a  _moment_. "Lemme see what other cool shit you can draw."

He turns his attention back to Keith's sketchbook,  _oohing_ and  _awing_ at every page. Keith watches him quietly and can't help but admire Lance's ability to move on, to not dwell.

 

Keith doesn't even notice that Lance doesn't text Mystery Boy this period, either.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

[Lancey Lance]: I swear I'm not ignoring you >.>

[Mystery Boy♡]: Lmao  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Were you talking about space in class again?

[Lancey Lance]: No! >_>;  
[Lancey Lance]: My friend let me see his sketchbook!  
[Lancey Lance]: He's really good! Look! I took pictures!  
[Lancey Lance]: [attachment]  
[Lancey Lance]: [attachment]  
[Lancey Lance]: [attachment]  
[Lancey Lance]: Isn't he amazing?

[Mystery Boy♡]: More like a weeb.

[Lancey Lance]: Rude!

[Mystery Boy♡]: He's pretty good I guess

[Lancey Lance]: Better than just good!  
[Lancey Lance]: I asked him to draw my dnd character  
[Lancey Lance]: Do you play dnd?

[Mystery Boy♡]: That requires more friends than I have readily available...

[Lancey Lance]: You can come play with us!  
[Lancey Lance]: After tomorrow I mean lol  
[Lancey Lance]: I even convinced Keith to join one of our sessions!  
[Lancey Lance]: He's my artist friend

[Mystery Boy♡]: Keith with the mullet?

[Lancey Lance]: Yeah lol  
[Lancey Lance]: He's cooler than his hair  
[Lancey Lance]: We actually started talking because of you  
[Lancey Lance]: Like on Monday before you left your first poem I may or may not have been venting in art  
[Lancey Lance]: Keith listened to me and we've been hanging out since  
[Lancey Lance]: So like  
[Lancey Lance]: Thanks!  
[Lancey Lance]: I've been trying to get that guy to talk to me since October lol  
[Lancey Lance]: No wait that sounds weird  
[Lancey Lance]: He transferred last fall and I was supposed to be his like greeter or whatever  
[Lancey Lance]: But he totally blew me off  
[Lancey Lance]: Totally platonic friendly talking.  
[Lancey Lance]: Not  
[Lancey Lance]: I mean not like  
[Lancey Lance]: Fuck  
[Lancey Lance]: I'm just digging myself deeper aren't I

[Mystery Boy♡]: No no keep going  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I wanna see if you make it to China.

[Lancey Lance]: >:P  
[Lancey Lance]: Keith and I are just friends.

[Mystery Boy♡]: I believe you.  
[Mystery Boy♡]: (not)

[Lancey Lance]: Are you even allowed to do that???  
[Lancey Lance]: Can crushes make fun of their crushes like that??

[Mystery Boy♡]: Well I just did  
[Mystery Boy♡]: So yes.

[Lancey Lance]: UGH you're the WORST.

[Mystery Boy♡]: If I'm so terrible, maybe Keith will be your future husband.

 

Lance slaps his phone face down on his desk. " _What the fuck._ " he rasps under his breath. His heart is going haywire, like it's trying to be a trapeze artist and a fire-breather at the same time. Pidge side-eyes him but doesn't say anything.

Okay.  _Okay okay okay okay okay._

This is fine. This is  _fine_.

Lance... _does not_  like Keith like that.  _He_ knows that, so what's the problem? It's just teasing, Mystery Boy teases him all the time, it's like, their  _thing._ This shouldn't be such a big deal--it's not! So why  _the fuck_ \--

Keith is just a  _friend_ , and that's... And that's already so great, okay? He's spent the last seven months trying to get him to open up, to get him to pull that stick out of his ass and not be such an emo prick. And he's such a cool guy! Underneath all that angst and brooding, Keith is really actually a nice person. That's all! Of course Lance is going to have, like, a  _reward high_ for finally cracking his shell! Keith is smart and talented and  _nice_ (holy shit he's so nice??). In terms of like, social tiers, Keith is  _way_ out of his league.

 _FRIEND LEAGUE,_ out of his _friend--_

Lance groans and drags his hands down his face.

By all rights, Keith should be a Popular Kid. Hell, next year he probably  _will_ be, especially if he goes out for sports. Um, Quarterback Kogane, hello?? Keith is stupid talented, and so,  _so_ smart--no matter what he says about Lance, there's a reason he used to call him his rival. If it weren't for Pidge and Hunk, he'd be the smartest guy in the room.

And he's so attractive-- _objectively._ He's objectively-- _U G H..._

Lance slumps and slides down in his seat, head against the backrest.

He's got dark eyes, dark hair--unblemished skin. Fuck, he's like, the  _definition_ of dark and handsome. Lord help the girls when he finally hits a growth spurt, because he's sure he'll be able to add  _tall_ to that list too...

 _Ugh_ , this is why Lance hated him for so long. Hell, he  _still_  kinda wants to hate him, but the dude is just too damn nice...

Lance's stomach is in knots--he always feels like shit when he thinks about how  _great_ Keith is.

He sighs and nearly falls out of his chair. Mr. Thace calls him out so he begrudgingly sits up straight again.

_'Maybe Keith will be your future husband.'_

Ha ha, very  _funny._

Lance hunches over his desk, absently doodling in his notebook so hard that it tears through to the next page.

To his right, Pidge eyes him warily, studying him. She stealthily takes out her phone.

* * *

"Dude," Hunk says, gently elbowing Keith to get his attention. "Whatever you said to Lance, Pidge says you  _broke_ him."

Keith frowns. "We haven't talked since Art, though..."

Hunk rolls his eyes. "Not  _you-_ you,  _secret admirer-_ you."

Keith's stomach drops. "Oh." He sneaks a glance at his phone; Lance still hasn't replied. Keith swipes his phone open and rereads his last text.

He's going to be sick.

He  _broke_ Lance? Was just the mere _suggestion,_ said  _teasingly,_  that he might like Keith really that bad? Was the idea so ridiculous that Lance couldn't even  _process_  it?

Keith feels that telltale hotness high in his cheeks.

Everything was going so well, too. He actually thought... Maybe Lance would...

 _Of course._ Of  _course_ it was too good to be true. Keith knew this would happen. Lance could accept a boy no problem but  _god forbid_ that boy be  _Keith_.

He takes a deep, slow breath, steeling himself as he starts typing.

 

[Mystery Boy♡]: I'm sorry.  
[Mystery Boy♡]: You know I was just teasing right?  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I know you only have eyes for me ;)

 

_Oh the irony._

 

[Lancey Lance]: Haha yeah ofc!  
[Lancey Lance]: Sorry for not replying  
[Lancey Lance]: Mr thace kept looking over  
[Lancey Lance]: I may be a super awesome ninja but even I'm not that good lol!

 

Keith's expression crumples.  _He's lying._ He wonders what else Lance has lied to him about.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance is out of sorts.

His mind is still a swirling mess and not even talking to Mystery Boy had helped. Actually, his texts had seemed sort of... _off,_ near the end of class. They're usually so chatty with each other, conversations full of double texts and teasing, but Mystery Boy's answers had become short, one-word,  _clipped_ , after...after  _that..._

Lance knows he's dragging his feet. He tells himself he  _needs_ to hurry the hell up and go to his locker so he doesn't disappoint Keith again. That thought doesn't help his muddled mind any, though.

Keith isn't at his locker by the time Lance shows up, so he waits. First bell sounds and still no Keith. Lance starts to get anxious. He dumps his books but doesn't shut the door, thinking it'll save time once Keith actually does show up.

Second bell is taking an oddly long time to go off, either time is dragging or Lance, in his fog, mistook second bell for first. Maybe he already missed Keith. Maybe he was too far in his own head and took too long and now Keith is already in the gym wondering why Lance is so damn late.

Lance starts shuffling in place, getting antsy, when he catches a familiar flash of red coming around a corner down the hall. His heart trips over itself as he quickly slams his locker closed and takes off in a sprint.

"Keith!"

The other boy turns but quickly looks away, head down. He looks miserable. It does weird things to Lance.

"Hey," he says gently, slowing down as he approaches. "You okay?" The shorter boy gives a halfhearted shrug. Lance's brain works on overdrive, trying to find and connect dots. He smiles softly. "You know, a wise man once told me... Who cares if you suck at math."

Keith's mouth ticks upward; Lance smiles brighter.

"Bad class?"

"Sometimes I just have no idea what Mr. Slav is even talking about." he grumbles.

"Same, and he doesn't even teach my class the hard stuff." Lance grins and bumps their shoulders together.

Keith finally gives him a proper smile.

A bell rings and Lance is flooded with relief; he's not losing track of time after all.

"C'mon," he grabs Keith's hand and starts jogging towards the gym, "we don't wanna be any later."

Keith chuckles quietly behind him and Lance feels like he could fly.

 

By some miracle, they make it to the gym and get changed fast enough that they're not even the last ones out of the locker room.

"Hello again, class!" Mr. Smythe says cheerfully as he steps out in front of the lineup. "As you may have guessed, Mitch still hasn't gotten his voice back." Coach Iverson, instead of sitting on the bleachers and pouting, stands next to Mr. Smythe and pouts. "So you're stuck with me again."

A lone student whoops; Mr. Smythe chuckles while Iverson scowls like he doesn't get paid enough for this.

"Now, I have good news and I have better news. The good news is the heat index has finally gone down enough that we'll be having class outside today. The better news," he grins mischievously and pauses for dramatic effect. "Tomorrow, we'll be heading to the pool."

The entire class erupts into mayhem.

Lance practically screams, throwing both arms in the air and falling backwards. The other students chitter excitedly, the noise in the gym rising exponentially until they're all shouting over each other. Lance, still on his back and laughing, looks up at Keith to see him just sitting there quietly, not really reacting.

Before he can say anything, Mr. Smythe is raising his hands in a placating gesture and asking the class to calm down. "Now it wouldn't be reasonable to have thirty alternating minutes of soggy students, so tomorrow will be a half day schedule--"

More cheering. Everyone loses their damn minds.

"A half day schedule," Mr. Smythe repeats loudly but can't hide his pleased smile. "Which means classes will be shortened and we'll spend the entire afternoon at the pool."

The teacher allows the students another minute of freaking out excitedly.

It's like Christmas, Halloween,  _and_ his birthday came early this year. Lance  _wants_ to be excited too, but Keith still seems completely unaffected by the news. Lance nudges him with his foot. "What's wrong?" he asks quietly, almost drowned out by the ruckus the rest of the class is making.

Keith just shakes his head and plants his chin on his knees.

Lance frowns.

"Alright everyone, that's enough celebrating! Up, up! Come on, now! Time to run some laps!" Mr. Smythe tweets the whistle to a tune only he knows, ushering the class out the door single file.

While they're making their way down the grassy hill to the track, Lance leans into Keith's space. "Are you excited for tomorrow?" he tries.

Keith seems to deflate a little but doesn't respond.

"Do you not like swimming?" He pauses. "Do you know how to swim?"

"I know how to swim." Keith mumbles.

Lance huffs. The class stops by the bleachers to do their stretches. "Then what's wrong, man? Work with me here."

"Nothing's wrong." Keith spits defensively.

"Something's definitely wrong." Lance fires back. He softens his tone. "C'mon, dude. You can talk to me. I wanna help."

Keith stops mid-stretch, arms falling to his sides. He stares down at his feet. "Nothing's wrong..." he insists weakly.

Lance stops his stretch as well, mimicking the other boy. He considers him with a thoughtful frown. "Fine." he relents. "But I'm here, okay? If you ever wanna talk." He opens his arms to him in the universal body language for  _let me hug you._

Keith goes a little rigid, straightening up and staring almost comically wide-eyed at the gesture. Lance rolls his eyes fondly, smiling, and takes a careful step forward. Lance used to joke that Keith must be an alien, given how awkward and withdrawn he usually is, but now he can't help but feel for the boy who looks scared of a  _hug_. So Lance doesn't push. He waits, patiently, arms still open.

Keith considers him like a frightened animal, arms raised defensively in front of him, fingers balled into loose fists. He looks conflicted, his thumbs running over his knuckles anxiously. Lance tries his best to make his smile more encouraging. It must work.

Keith very cautiously inches forward into the open embrace. When Lance deems him to be close enough, he carefully wraps his arms around the other boy. Keith is stiff, awkward, but Lance doesn't mind. He wraps him up, curling over him protectively and swaying ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry." Lance says quietly after a long moment.

"For what?" Keith mumbles into his shoulder.

"For being such an ass to you!" he sighs. "I've been nothing short of awful and I know one week can't change an entire school year, but I want you to know that I'm trying, okay? I want us to be friends, and I know that takes time, but I want to be there for you, Keith. Whenever you're ready, I'm here."

Lance is thankful Keith can't see his face right now because he's blushing up a storm. He feels...vulnerable. Emotional honesty is hard, he'd rather crack a few jokes. But Keith needed to hear that. Lance  _wanted_ him to hear it. They have so much in common and they get along so well, but they've both been idiots for months. Lance wants that to change so he's gotta start somewhere.

Keith shifts, and Lance thinks he's trying to get out of his hold, but before he can release him, Keith wraps his arms around his middle and really buries his face in Lance's shoulder, melting into him.

Lance's heart sings.

He squeezes Keith tighter, the slight momentum making them turn in place a few times.

Mr. Smythe blows the whistle but Lance doesn't let go.

Keith tries to wriggle away but Lance just tightens his hold. "Nope, nuh uh." He grins. "A McClain Hug has a mandatory sixty-second minimum." He feels more than hears Keith's laugh. The other boy responds by squeezing as hard as he can, which is a considerable amount. Lance wheezes and finally lets him go.  _Dios_ , he forgot how strong Keith is. " _My ribs!_ " he breathes hoarsely, clutching his sides.

Keith giggles brightly and, honestly, how is Lance supposed to stay mad at him? Even playfully mad. He just can't do it.

"Thanks, Lance." Keith says quietly,  _earnestly_ , a shy smile on his lips. Lance's brain short circuits and all he can do is smile back. "C'mon." He very,  _very_ gently punches Lance in the shoulder. Lance grins and follows him to where the rest of the class is gathered on the track.

"Alright," Mr. Smythe begins. "We'll run a staggered six at a time. Everyone must complete one entire lap, but don't forget to pace yourselves! This is a 400 meter run, much longer than the 100 meter dashes Ol' Mitch usually has you do." Next to him, Iverson rolls his eyes with a put-upon sigh. "Now," he toots his whistle, "everyone take a lane!"

The students sort themselves out. Those that know they're going to walk the whole way hover at the back of the group, and those that live and breath Gym class fight for the front spots. Lance and Keith end up in side-by-side lanes, set to run second.

"Well, well, well." Lance says with a playful grin. "Just like old times, eh?"

Keith smiles back and rolls his eyes. "That mean I'm gonna wipe the floor with you again?"

Lance scoffs, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I thought we were past that!  _Obviously_  I'm gonna win this time."

Keith laughs. "In your dreams, McClain." he says challengingly, but his fond smile kills any heat in his voice.

Lance nods, smile just as warm. "A finale, then. To our rivalry. Winner take all."

"And what does the winner get?"

Lance grins. "Bragging rights. For all eternity."

Keith's responding laugh is loud and bright. "Oh, I am  _definitely_ not going to let you win, then."

"I wouldn't want you to easy on me anyway."

Mr. Smythe blows the whistle and the first runners take off. Lance and Keith step up and take their starting positions.

"You sure I shouldn't hold back? It won't be much fun if you're just  _eating my dust_ the whole time."

"Big talk for someone with such short legs."

Keith bursts out laughing again. Why couldn't it always be like this? This is  _way_ better than being stupid rivals. And what's better than a little friendly competition between friends?

The runners ahead of them round the first curve. Mr. Smythe blows the whistle and they take off.

 _Pace yourself_ is not in Lance's nor Keith's vocabularies. They quickly break ahead of the other four kids in their group, full on sprinting as fast they can. For the first few meters, Lance is actually in the lead, his long legs carrying him an extra step, but Keith quickly catches up as Lance starts to lose wind. Keith pulls ahead, not even breaking a sweat. Lance growls and pushes himself, keeping pace all the way around the first bend. Distantly, he hears the whistle sound for the next group.

In the next stretch, Keith starts to gain on him again. Lance can feel a stitch in his side, and suddenly he almost regrets hugging Keith instead of finishing his stretches. Almost.

They remain neck and neck, the change in lead so minuscule it might be a photo finish. Lance hits his second wind just after the second turn. He powers through the ache in his legs, overtaking Keith by a substantial margin. He grins as he carves out a greater and greater lead, his visual of the other boy becoming a vague awareness in his peripheral.

And then suddenly, no Keith.

Lance hears him drop, hears the sharp cry. He skids to a halt, legs protesting the change in direction. "Keith!"

He's panting hard as he stumbles back to his downed friend. Keith is curled up on his side, clutching his ankle. Lance inhales sharply when he sees the angry red already blossoming under his sock.

"Keith! Keith, are you okay?" he asks, and even he can hear the panic in his voice.

"Lance?" Keith groans, peeling open his eyes, shiny tears already gathering in the corners.

"Come on, we need to get you to the nurse." Lance says lowly, gently.

"Why didn't you keep going?" Keith asks as Lance weaves an arm under both of his.

"You're hurt." he says simply, wincing when Keith lets out a choked cry as he tries to lift him.

Keith swallow hard. "But you would've won."

"You're  _hurt!_ " Lance says again, equal parts indignant and exasperated. The other runners in their group finally catch up to them. Two of them slow down enough to ask if they need help as they pass. Lance shakes his head and starts leading Keith off the track. "I'm not going to just _leave you_."

"But," his breath catches as he accidentally puts too much pressure on his injury. "You would've  _won_ , bragging rights. For  _eternity._ "

"Dude, who cares!?" Lance snaps.

"You do..." Keith mumbles.

Lance stops and takes a deep breath. "No, I  _don't._ " he says emphatically, trying to catch and keep Keith's eye. His hard gaze softens. "You're more important to me than some dumb competition."

Keith just stares, face flushed, and Lance starts to worry his ankle might be broken.

"Now come on," he huffs gruffly, adjusting his hold. "We gotta get you to the nurse."

 

* * *

 

Lance quickly explains the situation to Mr. Smythe, who frantically gives them the go-ahead. Getting up the hill and back to the school proves to be the most challenging part--the grass is slippery from the sprinklers and Lance loses his footing several times, resulting in Keith catching them with his injured foot. He feels bad every time because Lance looks like he might fall apart with worry.

They limp their way through the halls, Lance obviously trying to make them go faster but restraining himself for Keith's sake. It's sweet, he thinks. He gets the feeling that Lance would've scooped him up and carried him if he could.

They make it to the nurse quicker than Keith thought they would. She informs them that his ankle isn't broken, just twisted. She also tries to shoo Lance back off to class but he refuses to leave. That is, until Keith makes a comment about their gym clothes, and suddenly Lance is running out of the office and returning not five minutes later with their bags

"You didn't have to." Keith says gratefully as he takes his backpack. Lance scoffs and sits down next to him on the little faux-leather cot.

"'Course I did." he grumbles.

"No, you didn't  _have_ to, but you _did_. So, thank you."

Lance stares a moment, face still flushed from sprinting to the locker room and back. "'Course." he mumbles, looking away with a little smile.

Keith switches the hand holding the ice pack to his injury. He shakes out his hand, fingers numb.

"Cold?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"Here," Lance scoots further back on the cot so his back touches the wall, legs stretched out. Keith blinks, unsure of what he's offering. "Put your feet up."

Keith instantly blushes. "Wh-what? No!"

"Come  _on_ , you need to keep it elevated anyway, and I really don't mind." He pats his thighs invitingly for emphasis.

Keith chews his lip; Lance just keeps staring him down expectantly. After another long moment, Keith finally relents with a sigh. He pulls his legs up onto the bed and leans back into the other wall, carefully planting his feet on Lance's right leg. He begrudgingly hands over the ice pack as well when Lance makes a grabby hand for it. There's something indescribably comforting in the way Lance holds the ice to his ankle with one hand and just rests the other nearby. It's grounding, he thinks.

"How's it look?" he asks tentatively, going for playful.

Lance hums and lifts the pack a little. "Better. You should be able to dance on it tomorrow." Keith's heart jumps and for a second he thinks he's been made, but then Lance recoils with a silent  _wait_ before turning his confused look to Keith. " _Are_ you going to the dance tomorrow?"

Keith swallows hard, face hot. "Y-Yeah..." he stutters, unable to meet his gaze.

"Who're you going with?"

Keith squeezes his eyes shut. "Y-You guys?" He feels Lance stiffen.

"Oh. Like... Me, Hunk, and Pidge?"

Keith nods. "Yeah," he laughs nervously, "we're all sort of invested in this  _Mystery Boy_ thing, we didn't want to just throw you to the wolves. Besides," he finally meets Lance's eye and offers him a crooked smile. "There's bound to be at least a  _few_ songs before the first slow dance."

Lance blinks, then melts into a huge, warm smile. "And you guys just can't leave me hanging for a dance partner in the mean time."

Keith chuckles. "Something like that... Though, I can't really dance anyway."

"What? Sure you can!" Lance gives his leg a gentle squeeze with his non-ice hand. "You'll be waltzing around in no time!"

Keith outright laughs. "I don't think a twisted ankle will give me a skill I never had in the first place."

"What! You can't dance!?"

Keith shakes his head, a fond smile permanently glued to his lips. "Nope."

Lance mulls over this information with a pout. "I'll teach you."

"What? No!"

"Why not!"

"Because! That's," he huffs, "that's  _embarrassing_..." he mumbles, face heating up again.

"Aw,  _come on!_ " Lance whines, bringing out those damn puppy eyes again. "It'll be fun! Pidge and Hunk were already gonna come over after school to work on our  _moves,_ you should come too!"

"I'll just be in the way..."

"You won't!" Lance insists. "Besides, isn't it better to mess up in front of your friends than at the actual dance?"

"I wasn't really planning on actually  _dancing_ at the dance..."

" _What!_ " Lance cries, playfully offended. "Unacceptable! Nope! I want at least  _one_ dance with you tomorrow, Kogane! And I won't have you stepping on my feet the whole! Therefore, you  _have_ to come over and practice with us!"

Keith bites back a grin. "Well," he begins coyly, "I can't really argue with that logic, now can I?" Lance beams like the sun. "I should probably let my dad know, though." Keith wonders if his dad is even awake yet as he digs his phone out of his bag. He notices Lance eyeing him strangely. "What?"

Lance bites his lip. "Can I have your number?"

"Wh-what?"

"So I can text you and stuff. What if we lose each other at the dance and I need my best wingman?"

"I-I," Keith throws a panicked glance at his phone. "It's only for emergencies." he blurts. "Yeah, m-my dad works night shifts so he's not awake during the day."  _What?_ Does that even make _sense?_ Oh god, Lance is gonna see right through--

"Say no more."

Keith blinks at him dumbly.

Lance holds up a hand with a small smile. "I remember my first phone too, I don't wanna get you in trouble." He grins. "But when you get your first for-fun phone, you  _gotta_ give me your number."

 _Holy shit that actually worked._ Keith exhales, relieved, and smiles at Lance. "Definitely."

Lance grins back. "Oh, I should probably let my mom know too."

They both pause their conversation to focus on their phones. Keith is halfway through his message when a notification silently pops up. It's from Lance.

Keith glances up at the other boy; he's totally engrossed with his phone. Keith opens the text.

 

[Lancey Lance]: I won't be able to talk tonight.  
[Lancey Lance]: My friend got hurt and I know he won't take care of himself on his own so I invited him over after school

 

Keith can't help the warm smile that spreads across his face.  _Dancing lessons, huh?_

 

[Lancey Lance]: My mom's gonna dote on him so hard he won't even remember he twisted his ankle.  
[Lancey Lance]: Gonna get Pidge and Hunk in on it too  
[Lancey Lance]: Anyways, I'm sorry I've been bad at replying today  
[Lancey Lance]: I'll definitely talk more tomorrow!!

[Mystery Boy♡]: That's okay, I understand.  
[Mystery Boy♡]: Go take care of your friend, he's lucky to have you.  
[Mystery Boy♡]: I'll see you tomorrow ♡

[Lancey Lance]: See you tomorrow ♡ ♡ ♡

 

Keith can't stop grinning. He sneaks another peak at Lance and is pleased to find the other boy smiling fondly at his own phone. Keith quickly finishes texting his dad.

"Well?" Lance asks once Keith sets his phone down. "Did he say yes?"

Keith hums and quickly checks for notifications: none. "He's probably not awake yet..."

Lance deflates a little. "Oh... Does that mean you can't come over?"

"No, it should be fine. I'm just worried he won't wake up in time to let Kosmo out..."

"Kosmo?"

Keith nods. "My dog. Well, she's just barely a year old, so really she's still just a puppy."

Lance giggles, grinning.

"What?"

"Nothing." he laughs. "It's just..." He bites down on his smile. "My cat's name is Wanda."

Keith snorts. " _Seriously?_ "

Lance nods. "Yeah, she's bright red and a trouble maker, so we nicknamed her the _scarlet witch_..."

Keith laughs. " _Wanda Maximoff..._ "

"Exactly."

They share a quiet laugh, waiting for their respective parents to get back to them. Lance's mom is the first to reply.

"My mom says she can't wait to meet you."

Keith grins slyly at him. "Oh?"

Lance flushes pink. "Yeah." he squeaks. "I sorta, uh... Well I mean, we had that whole  _rivalry_ thing and..."

"And...?"

Lance squeezes his eyes shut, cringing as he quickly blurts, "And I just tell my mom everything, okay? Like she knows I was your student ambassador and that you didn't really talk to me and that we were rivals and of course about this whole secret admirer business and how cool you've been and how much you've helped me and Ronnie is friends with Pidge's brother so my mom gets a bunch of gossip from  _her_ too, so," He gasps in a huge breath. " _Yeah_ , my mom's, er, _heard_ of you."

Keith valiantly tries to hold in his laughter; Lance takes one look at him and throws him a pleading expression. Keith cracks anyway.

" _C'mon, man..._ " Lance sighs. "It's been a roller coaster of a week and I really do tell her everything..."

Keith reigns in his laughter with a final chuckle. " _Everything?_ Even about Mystery  _Boy_...?"

That cute pink blush spreads to his ears. "Well, yeah..." he mumbles.

Keith hums. "Doesn't seem like that little distinction matters much to her, either..."

Lance smiles softly. "No. It wasn't really a... _surprise_ , I guess... In her words, she always knew I had,  _'too much love to give for just one gender.'_ ...Also, Ronnie likes girls and she's been out for years, so, we think it runs in the family."

A warm feeling bubbles up in Keith's chest and comes out as a soft laugh. "I'm glad your family supports you, Lance."

"Yeah, me too."

 

In the end, Keith's dad never did text him back, but Lance got confirmation from Hunk and Pidge that they'd meet them on the bus. Of course,  _Keith_ isn't supposed to know that this was all last minute, but judging from Lance's face journey as he texted their friends, he's guessing he had to bribe one of them to get them to come over. Probably Pidge.

The last bell rings and Lance heads to his locker to pick up their homework, promising to be back in a few minutes. Keith takes the opportunity to change out of his gym clothes. Lance reappears just as he finishes tying his shoes.

"How's your ankle?"

Keith hums and puts a little weight on it. "Better, but I'm not sure--"

Lance holds his backpack out to him.

"Uhh..." Keith says intelligently. He stares at the blue bag like it'll tell him a secret.

"Hold this for me." Lance says brightly.

Keith nods slowly and takes the bag, automatically putting his arms through the straps despite already wearing his own red backpack. It's really awkward.

Without missing a beat, Lance spins around and crouches in front of him. "Hop on!"

" _What?_ " Keith squeaks, stumbling back a step.

Lance looks over his shoulder at him and rolls his eyes. "You shouldn't be walking on it, even using me as a crutch."

"Yeah but--"

"C'mon, Mullet!" he sings teasingly and  _excuse me,_ but how dare he make that awful nickname sound so  _fond._ "You can trust me!" He wiggles his extended hands enticingly. "I promise I won't drop you!"

Keith is weak. So, so weak.

His face is one fire and his heart is hammering away like it's about to self-destruct, but he steps forward without further protest anyway. He knows he's trembling as he wraps his arms around Lance's neck, but thankfully the other boy doesn't say anything.

Keith yelps when Lance stands without warning, accidentally tightening his stranglehold. Lance laughs hoarsely.

"You try'na kill me, Kogane?"

Keith whines a quiet apology, easing up but burying his face against Lance's neck.  _I should be asking you that._ Apparently, Lance  _can_ scoop him up and carry him. He wonders why he didn't earlier. Keith guesses he was too panicked to think straight before, but that thought puts a knot in his stomach.

"Aren't you gonna complain?" Keith mumbles as they make their way to the buses, slow but steady.

Lance shrugs, adjusting Keith a little higher. "Nah."

There's that blush again. "B-but I'm probably heavy. Don't you wanna rub it in my face? You've already helped me so much and now _this_? I'm _sure_ you wanna brag about how generous you are."

" _Please_ ," Keith can hear the eye roll in his voice. "You're hurt and I  _offered_ to carry you--I'm not gonna hold that over you, that'd be really shitty." He pauses and adjusts Keith again. "And yeah you're heavy, but you've also got two backpacks with twelve classes of homework." he says lightly. "And you're like, pure muscle, so..." he adds under his breath. Keith forcefully pushes down whatever embarrassing noise his throat is trying to make.

"Besides," Lance continues easily, "I give my little cousins piggyback rides all the time." He stops at the doors, considering how to open them. Keith nudges his shoulders in a way that gets him to turn around and back up into them, using Keith to push them open. They walk outside backwards. "So no, I'm not going to complain."

Keith mumbles a _thank you_ , though it comes out more as a hum on the back of Lance's neck. Lance stiffens a little, his grip on Keith's legs tightening almost imperceptibly.

A sharp gasp meets their ears.

"Oh man, are you okay?" Hunk asks worriedly, jogging up to them.

Keith smiles at him reassuringly. "I'm fine." He grins and tries to deflect his own fluttering heart. "Though according to Dr. Lance here, I don't think I have much time left."

Lance scoffs indignantly, hoisting Keith up again.

Hunk answers with an amused smirk. "Yeah, I think you're right. I don't know how you'll make it with all this  _smothering._ "

" _Shut up!_ " Lance squeaks. Keith can feel him heat up beneath him and has to bite back another grin.

Pidge's head pops out of a nearby bus window. "Come on, nerds! Let's get this show on the road!"

Keith laughs. Hunk shakes his head affectionately.

They board the bus. Hunk trails close behind, a hand on Keith's back so Lance doesn't lose his balance as he climbs the steps. Pidge waves them over. Hunk slides in next to her while Lance carefully sets Keith down in the seat across the aisle. Keith looks around. It's weird, he's never been on a school bus before. He lived within walking distance of his last school as well, and before that his mom used to drop him off and pick him up every day. He's not sure what to make of it. It's loud and crowded and he swears it's ten degrees hotter in here than outside, not to mention the whole thing smells like old leather and stale vomit.

Lance sits down next to him and immediately pulls his bad leg back onto his lap. Keith blushes again. He looks up to see Pidge and Hunk grinning uncontrollably at him. He blushes harder.

"So Keith," Pidge starts smugly. "What happened?"

"He twisted his ankle." Lance answers for him.

"That doesn't sound like Keith." Hunk chimes in. "That sounds like you, Lance."

Pidge snickers quietly. "Yeah, Lance, I thought  _you_ were the uncoordinated one. Remember that time you missed a step and slid down an entire staircase on your ass?"

"Or that time you fell  _up_ a staircase and chipped your front tooth?"

"Or when--"

" _Okay, we get it!_ " Lance says loudly, voice cracking. Pidge and Hunk howl with laughter in their seat. Keith frowns.

"Actually, I think I tripped on a rock, or a hole, or something..." he says, grabbing their attention and quickly settling them down. "I remember my toes catching on something."

"Are you okay?" Hunk asks again. Keith shrugs.

"Are your  _toes_ okay?" Pidge amends.

They both look at him expectantly, even Lance throws him a worried look too because the nurse only checked his ankle. Keith just shrugs slowly, helplessly.

Lance turns his attention to Keith's foot. He carefully unties his shoe and gently pulls it off.

They're met with an incredibly ordinary white sock.

"Aw man..." Pidge whines. "I was hoping it'd be like, covered in blood or something."

"Thank goodness it's  _not_." Hunk says. "Can you wiggle your toes?"

Keith wiggles his socked toes.

"Well, at least nothing's broken..."

Keith rolls his eyes. "I think I would know if I had a broken toe. It wouldn't be the first bone I've broken."

Hunk pales; Pidge lights up like it's Christmas.

"What did you break and how did you break it?" she asks excitedly.

"I got my finger caught in a door when I was four." Pidge cackles; Hunk lets out a low whine. "I crashed my bike into a ditch and broke my leg when I was nine." He pulls down his sock enough to display a raised, jagged line about two inches long across his shin; Lance looks horrified. "And when I was eleven, I picked a fight with a kid twice my size and he broke my arm." He twists his right arm to show off a long, faded scar running from his elbow to his wrist.

" _Sick._ " Pidge whispers, enraptured.

"Oh please, please no more..." Hunk begs weakly, turning away with a dry heave.

" _Dude_." Lance rasps incredulously.

Keith just shrugs, completely nonplussed. "Actually, I think I  _did_ break a toe once. Maybe twice. I didn't, like, go to the hospital for it, though. I remember it hurt to walk for a few weeks, but then it was fine. My toes are kinda crooked but, _eh_." He shrugs again.

Lance gawks, affronted. He slips Keith's shoe back on and lets out a long, defeated sigh. "You know, if this were the zombie apocalypse, you'd  _totally_ be the one to hide a bite and end up eating the rest of our brains."

"Well then at least you know you'd survive, Lance." Pidge chirps teasingly.

"Too bad zombies don't eat hearts, Pidge, seeing as how  _you don't have one._ " Keith fires back.

The girl grins maniacally, slapping a hand to her chest and throwing her head back. "The burden of being a stone cold Jane Austen!" She rolls her head onto her shoulder and turns her evil, shit-eating grin back on him. "Besides Keith, zombie or not, we both know Lance is a  _snack._ "

Keith bristles, his entire face coming to a quick boil.

Lance wordlessly mouths something to himself, eyebrows pinched in confusion.

"So anyway!" Keith says loudly, floundering for a topic change. "Lance! What, uh, what's the plan?"

Lance gives a small start. "Oh, uh, well..." Keith can see the gears in his head turning and he's thankful he seems to have derailed whatever he was just thinking. "Y'know, just... Goof around to some music I guess?" His ears are tinged pink; he looks embarrassed. Keith doesn't understand why. "Um, my mom says she's making brownies..."

Pidge gasps loudly and scrambles over Hunk, leaning precariously into the aisle. " _Shut up!_ Tía's making brownies!? Oh _man_ , Keith you are one lucky son of a bitch! Lance's mom makes the  _best_ brownies in the world!"

Lance frowns at her. "You better keep that mouth of yours in check if you want any. You know how Mamá feels about swearing."

Pidge crosses her heart and mimes zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've never said a bad word ever in my life."

"We know this and we love you." Hunk says sarcastically. He pats her on the shoulder before roughly shoving her off his lap.

 

The rest of the bus ride is uneventful, spent mostly by Hunk and Lance reliving Pidge's most foul lines. She denies each and every one, despite correcting the exact phrasing on more than half of them. Keith stays quiet, just enjoying the banter. It brings a warm smile to his face to actually see Lance in on the teasing for once. He feels like his friends have been dogpiling on him all week, but that might just be a symptom of the whole secret admirer situation. At any rate, it makes Keith's insides feel like cotton candy to see Lance relaxed and enjoying himself. That, and maybe because Lance unconsciously massages his ankle the whole time, his warm hands doing wonders for his muscles after the ice pack.

Eventually they all hop off the bus in a cute little neighborhood.

"My house is just over there." Lance says, nodding down the street. "Do you want me to carry you again?"

Keith instantly turns red. "N-No, that's alright!"

Lance frowns. "Well, here. Lemme just--" He pulls Keith's arm over his shoulders.

Suddenly Hunk is on Keith's other side. "I got him!" he chirps helpfully.

Lance quickly jerks Keith away from Hunk, tugging him closer to himself and throwing off his balance. " _No!_ "

All three of them just stare at him.

"I-I mean," he stutters. "It's fine. I'm fine. I don't need a break or anything." Lance's face is bright red, his eyes flit from Hunk to Pidge but curiously avoid Keith.

"Actually," Keith interjects sheepishly. "I feel a lot better now. I think I can manage on my own."

Lance drops his arm like it's got cooties and stumbles back a few feet. "Of course!" he squeaks. "Yeah dude, that's cool! It's good you're, I mean, 'm glad it, uh--" He trips over his words, not meeting any of their eyes now. He laughs nervously and spins around, power walking down the sidewalk at an alarming pace.

"Lance?" Keith calls after him.

"Yeah?" He answers quickly, spinning a little too fast and careening to the left slightly.

Keith swallows, not wanting to assume anything but his heart is fluttering like a swarm of moths going to town on a porch light. "Do you...wanna carry my bag for me?" He shifts the weight on his back, still wearing both of their bags.

"Of course!!" Lance sprints back to the group in the blink of an eye. He gladly accepts both bags from Keith, throwing his own over his shoulder and clutching Keith's to his chest, like he needs something to hold on to. He moves to start speeding ahead again but Keith catches his by the elbow. He gingerly wraps his hands around his arm, feigning the need to use him for balance and playing up his limp. Lance walks stiffly but slowly, face beet-red. He doesn't say a single word from the bus stop to his house. Behind them, Pidge and Hunk are grinning and giggling like idiots. Every time he glances back, Hunk gives him two thumbs up. Pidge has her phone out, but Keith isn't sure if she's taking pictures or recording. He decides he doesn't want to know, so he keeps his eyes forward and his mouth shut.

Lance doesn't say which house is his, but Keith is not surprised in the least when they stop at an adorable two-story house. There's faded chalk drawings all across the driveway, the mailbox is painted a rainbow of bright colors, string lights dangle from the rafters of the porch, and the entire front yard is consumed by a breathtakingly beautiful garden.

A woman in a sunny yellow dress and comically large sunhat pops up from between the stalks of a mini sunflower forest.

"Mijo!" she calls cheerfully, standing up and brushing off her skirt. "Welcome home!"

Lance twitches like he wants to run up to her, but doesn't leave Keith's side. "Hi, Mom!"

She tuts lovingly, coming over to wrap him up in a hug. " _Mom_ , he says. Since when are you embarrassed to say _mamá_ in front of your friends?" Lance squirms in her hold.

"Hi, Tía!" Pidge sings somewhere behind them.

"Katherine! It's been too long! Why did my Lance stop bringing you around?" she pouts.

"Because I  _embarrass_ him." Pidge grins, punctuating the word with a light punch to Lance's shoulder as she steps up for a hug. Mrs. McClain scoops her off her feet, her legs tangling as she's swung in a half circle. Ah, so that's where Lance gets it from.

The second Pidge's feet touch the ground again, there's Hunk, ready for his turn. "Hi, Tía."

Mrs. McClain clicks her tongue with a soft coo and engulfs Hunk in an embrace. They sway on the spot for a long minute. "Hello, Henry!" She smooths her hands over his head. "Your hair is getting so long! Let me cut it for you, hm?"

Hunk laughs. "But I'm growing it out!"

"Ah, he is trying to be a rock star, like you brother!" she laughs, grinning at Lance.

Lance laughs nervously, fidgeting in place. He has one hand over Keith's, squeezing tightly. "Mamá?" he says, voice dipping strangely. "This is Keith."

The woman turns her radiant, downy-soft smile to him. She bends so they're eye level with each other. "Hello, Keith." she says, gentle like only a mother can be. "I'm so happy to finally meet you. Lancito talks about you all the time. May I hug you?"

Keith nods slightly, cheeks flushed. The woman draws him into her arms. It's not like how she hugged Pidge or Hunk, or even Lance. She hugs like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer; comforting and familiar. Keith has to hold back a sniffle; it makes him miss his own mom.

Mrs. McClain releases him with one last squeeze. "Now!" she chirps, smile softer than ever. "Who wants brownies?"

Pidge and Hunk cheer a response and race into the house like they own the place. Mrs. McClain laughs and follows after them. Lance hangs back with Keith, who's suddenly wobbly on his feet after the intense maternal affection.

The inside of Lance's house is every bit as fairytale-welcoming as the outside. Framed photos cover the entire entryway like wallpaper; baby pictures and school photos, vacation shots, candids--it's like an open book of the McClain family's entire life. The door frame leading into the kitchen is notched in increments, likely a record of Lance's and his siblings' heights. Lance leads him into a sunny living room, with colorful crocheted blankets thrown over every sitting surface and even more photos strategically placed throughout. The whole house makes Keith's heart ache in an unfamiliar way. A cozy, family-focused living space that looks like it took years--maybe generations--to perfect. It's nothing like the military bases and short-lived apartments Keith is used to...

Hunk is already sitting politely on one of the couches. Pidge is face-down on the floor, sprawled out like a cadaver.

"You said Tía was  _making_ brownies." she whines into the carpet. "As in they'd be  _ready_ when we got here..."

Keith snorts and takes a seat next to Hunk. Lance towers over Pidge, hands on his hips, and gently kicks her. "They take like... Twenty minutes, tops. You'll live."

She moans and curls in on herself. "I'll  _die_ of starvation before then!! I need _sugar!_ "

Lance sighs and shakes his head. "I'll see what I can do..." he mumbles and pads out of the room. The second he's gone, Pidge bolts upright, a terrifying grin on her face.

" _Status report!_ " she whisper-barks at Keith.

Keith gives a start and looks to Hunk, but he has the same crazed smile on his face. Keith shrinks into the couch.

" _Well?_ " At least Hunk has the decency to be coy about it.

" _Are you crazy!?_ " Keith whisper-shouts. " _I'm not going to talk about it here!_ "

Pidge whisper-boos him, grabbing a nearby throw pillow and tossing it at him. Keith catches it.

Hunk chuckles quietly and plucks the pillow out of his hand. "Things  _seem_ to be going well." he offers.

Pidge snorts. " _Really_ well. When's the wedding?"

Keith squawks, wrenching the pillow out of Hunk's grasp and hurling it at Pidge. He misses by a mile. " _Shut up!_ "

"Come on, dude," Hunk laughs. "You gotta admit, you two are getting  _pretty cozy_."

Keith can feel his face heating up again. " _It's not like that._ " he insists hotly.

"Well then what  _is_ it like?" Pidge's expression softens to something serious. "I don't know what happened seventh period, but Lance looked  _miserable_. And well," she gestures to the kitchen, "now he  _doesn't_. That's gotta mean  _something._ "

Keith's heart sinks. " _Yeah,_ " he rasps, "it means he _hates_ me."

Hunk groans. "Dude,  _no._ Just no. Where have you been the last thirty minutes?"

"Yeah, I don't know about you, but I don't give piggyback rides and foot massages to people I hate." Pidge adds.

Keith whines low in his throat and tries to disappear between the couch cushions. "He doesn't  _hate_ me but he doesn't... _like-like_ me either..." He sighs and crosses his arms, hugging himself tightly. "I--I mean-- _Mystery Boy_ , made a joke that he, that  _Lance,_ could ask  _me_ out. And, well..."

"Oh." Pidge breathes out.

"Yeah.  _Oh..._ "

"That's... I mean," Hunk tries. He really tries to find a silver lining to this turd of a situation. He glances frantically at Pidge. She sits up a little straighter.

"That doesn't  _mean_ anything." She forces a laugh, trying to play it off. "Don't give up hope."

Keith huffs. " _Why not?_ " he snaps. "It seems like the more I  _hope_ , the worse the outcome is going to be. We get along! We're friends! And the closer we get, the more it's going to hurt tomorrow night! I just--" He rakes his hands through his hair. "There's no version of this that ends well."

"No version of what won't end well?"

Keith jumps as Lance comes back in, a bunch of colorful tube things in one hand and an ice pack in the other. He tilts his head and smiles at Keith.

"Star Wars!" Hunk says a little too loudly. "We were talking about Star Wars!"

Lance groans dramatically. " _Ugh,_ tell me about it! Dude, Last Jedi  _sucked_. I don't know _how_  episode nine can recover from it." He walks up to Pidge. "Here." He extends the tubes to her.

She gives him a pouty frown. " _These aren't brownies..._ " she mutters but takes one of the blue ones anyway.

Lance rolls his eyes. "Mamá says not to rush perfection. Besides, you love blue raspberry."

Pidge hums, ripping the top off the plastic tube with her teeth. "True."

Lance steps over Pidge's outstretched legs to where Keith and Hunk are sat. Hunk gladly accepts a red tube. Lance holds out the last two to Keith; one red, one blue.

"Uhh..." Keith says intelligently. He glances over at Hunk, who's carefully torn open his tube with his hands like a civilized person. He raises an eyebrow at Keith.

"What's wrong?"

Keith flushes an embarrassed pink. "What are they?" he mumbles sheepishly.

"Popsicles!" Lance answers brightly.

 _Popsicles?_ Keith frowns, remembering what Lance told Mystery Boy yesterday. He wonders if Lance is still upset about earlier...

"You don't...like popsicles...?" Lance asks, voice falling slightly.

Keith shakes his head quickly. "No, no! I mean, I do! I--" He huffs. "Which one do you want?"

Lance frowns. "You're the guest--pick whichever one you want."

"I don't wanna leave you with a flavor you hate."

"I like both--it's fine."

"But--"

"Oh my god just pick one!" Pidge complains loudly from across the room.

Keith flushes deeply and quickly takes the blue one; Lance beams triumphantly. "Excellent. I love cherry."

Keith scoffs. " _You said you didn't care._ "

"I don't." He grins. "But I like cherry better."

Keith groans.

Lance laughs as he wedges himself between Keith and Hunk, forcing Hunk to scoot over a bit to make room. "Here," he holds the ice pack out to Keith. "Mamá says to keep icing it, even if it feels better." Keith nods and takes the pack.

"So," Pidge says, loudly but conversationally. Keith looks over and snorts: her teeth are stained blue. "What happened to that whole  _goofing around to music_ plan?"

"Right!" Lance chirps. He hops off the couch and over to a tall black speaker in the corner. "Time to polish our  _moves!_ " He presses a button and the speaker beeps loudly. "You connected, Pidge?"

She hums an affirmative, scrolling through her phone. "What do you wanna start with?"

Lance taps his chin. "Something easy, with a good rhythm."

"How 'bout this one?" A song starts playing, full of strings and a particularly sharp violin. It definitely has rhythm. Keith thinks it's the sort of music you're supposed to do a specific dance to.

Lance hums in thought. "S'alright... I don't think they'll play a tango at the dance though..."

" _Whaaat_ ," Pidge laughs. "Why not? This one's a  _classic._ " Her grin turns downright mischievous. She stands up only to dramatically drop to her knees. She throws her head back, her fists in the air, and at the same time the singer comes in, she yells, "ROOOXXXXXXAAAANNNNNNNNEEEE!"

Lance squawks and turns a bright, luminescent red. Hunk starts laughing so hard he chokes. Keith is very, very confused.

Pidge quickly stands again and flings an arm out to Hunk to continue her tone-deaf tirade. "YOU DON'T HAVE TO PUT ON THAT RED LIIIIGHT!"

Hunk gasps likes she's offended his delicate sensibilities.

"DON'T WALK THE STREETS FOR MONEY! YOU DON'T CARE IF-- _Lance!_ " she whines when the music suddenly cuts out. Lance is back over at the speaker, finger on the pause button.

" _Are you insane!_ " he squeaks hoarsely, face still on fire. He shoots a wild glance over to the kitchen. "Mamá will kill  _all_ of us!"

" _Ugh fine!_ " Pidge pouts. She whips her phone back out and a moment later, some cutesy pop song starts playing. " _There,_ Top 40s. Happy?"

" _Thank you._ " Lance sighs. It takes a moment, but he starts bobbing his head to the beat. "Yeah, this is perfect!" He offers a hand to Keith. "C'mon! I'll show you how it's done!"

Keith stares at the hand, a nervous noise stuck in his throat. Lance rolls his eyes and grabs both of Keith's hands, pulling him up. Keith yelps; Lance laughs.

"C'mon, Mullet, you can't just watch! This is a _learn by doing_ sorta thing!"

" _More like trial by fire..._ " he mutters under his breath. Lance laughs anyway. Keith can't help the little smile that curls his lips.

"Okay you two, have fun." Pidge says and snaps her fingers. "Hunk! Tango me to the kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am!" He hops off the couch and grabs Pidge by the waist, like it's something they've practiced.

"What!" Lance squeaks, cheeks pink. "Where do you think you're going?!"

Pidge rolls her eyes. "Tía's making brownies and I intend to lick that spoon. Onward!" She and Hunk thrust their clasped hands in front of them and stalk off in wide, coordinated steps in an exaggerated tango. Lance and Keith are left standing in the middle of the living room with the bouncy pop song.

" _Traitors..._ " Lance grumbles under his breath. He sighs and looks back at Keith. He offers him a nervous smile. "Guess it's just you and me then."

Keith swallows dryly and nods, acutely aware that Lance is still holding both his hands. Lance directs his gaze to their feet; Keith does the same.

"Alright, just, follow my lead, okay?" He moves his right foot forward; Keith takes a step back with his left. "Yeah! Just like that!" he praises. Keith can hear the smile in his voice. It makes his face burn hotter.

They continue slowly like that, one step at a time, building up the pace, until suddenly Lance lifts his arm a certain way and Keith's view of the living room blurs. He spins right into Lance's arms, flustered brain trying to process what just happened.

"Sorry!" Lance laughs, the sound sweeter than the song. "I couldn't resist." His smile has Keith melting on the spot.

The music abruptly changes.

Lance gives a start and jerks backwards, face flushing red. " _Pidge!_ " he shouts towards the kitchen. He sighs and turns back to Keith, rubbing his neck apologetically. "Sorry..."

"It's fine." he mutters. It's a slow song. A classic, bleeding heart slow dance. Of course Lance doesn't want to share it with him...

The other boy fidgets in front of him. "I, uh," He clears his throat. "I could really use the practice before, uh, before I meet Mystery Boy..." He raises his hands in an open gesture. "Sorry," his voice breaks. "I know it's like,  _embarrassing_..."

Keith shakes his head quickly. "It's fine." he rasps, barely above a whisper. Lance's answering smile is grateful. Keith takes a step forward, legs feeling about as stable as jello. Lance delicately places his hands on his hips while Keith reaches up for his shoulders.

It's awkward.

They both laugh.

"Maybe we should switch?" Lance suggests. Keith nods and lowers his trembling hands to Lance's waist. Lance raises his to Keith's shoulders. It's better.  _Much_ better. They fit together perfectly. "See?" Lance chuckles. "You're already saving me. I would've died on the spot if that happened at the dance."

Keith bites back a smile. "You would've been fine."

"Nah, I owe you my life."

Keith can't help the tiny giggle that slips past his lips. Lance starts swaying them lazily.

"...I really do owe you. Big time." Lance says quietly after a long moment. "You've helped me out so much this week--you always have my back." He breathes out a quiet laugh and leans forward, closing the space between them. He wraps his arms loosely over Keith's shoulders and rests his chin on his arm. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even have a secret admirer."

Keith's heart stumbles. "You would've still gotten all those letters..."

Lance chuckles softly and shakes his head. "I would've, yeah. But if you hadn't convinced me to give them a chance, I would've just kept on thinking it was some kind of joke."

Keith's lip begins to tremble. He smushes his face into Lance's shoulder and holds him a little closer. All his words catch in his throat, clogging his airways until he can't breathe.

"This's been the best week of my life," Lance continues. "And not just because of Mystery Boy. I just..." He squeezes Keith gently. "I'm really glad we're finally friends."

Keith can't stand this. It's too much. He's about to start crying and spill his guts, but blessedly, the song ends and he takes a wide step backwards, away from Lance.

"So yeah," he laughs, hoping it doesn't sound as pathetic as he feels. "How about those brownies?"

Keith turns on his heel and practically runs to the kitchen. Pidge and Hunk look up at him when he enters. Keith's heart slams against his ribs. He quickly ducks his head and goes to sit on the other side of the table next to Hunk.

Lance comes in a minute later, pausing at the freezer to deposit the forgotten ice pack. Keith squeezes his eyes shut with a silent curse. Lance sits down next to Pidge, another round of popsicles in hand. He offers them to Keith; he shakes his head without making eye contact. Lance directs them to Hunk, who also declines. Pidge plucks both blue ones out of his hand and immediately tears into one. Lance opens both cherry-flavored tubes and crunches on them simultaneously like an ice pop vampire.

"The brownies are still in the oven." Mrs. McClain sings from where she's cutting up vegetables by the sink. "Are you done dancing already?"

Lance flushes scarlet. "I think we're all danced out..." he mutters.

His mom hums. "Why don't you go show your friends your outfit for tomorrow?" She turns around and smiles at them. "Lance looks  _so handsome._ He picked everything out himself. He's very proud."

" _Moooom..._ " he whines, sliding right out of his chair and under the table. Pidge and Hunk snicker, Keith's still just trying to get his heart rate in check.

She clicks her tongue at him. "So embarrassed! Why? This weekend, it's all you could talk about. Now, _one boy_ asks you out and now it's  _embarrassing! Ay dios, no entiendo..._ " Lance whines miserably from somewhere under the table. "Well go on! I'm sure Keith would like to see your room."

Keith snaps to attention at his name. "Oh, no, it's okay--" he stutters.

Lance pops up on the other side of Pidge, head hung in defeat. "C'mon..." he grumbles and shuffles down the hall. Pidge and Hunk follow after him. Keith goes to do the same but Mrs. McClain holds him back.

"Don't let his theatrics fool you," she whispers to him like a secret. "My boy is  _so_ excited to finally have you over--you're all he ever talks about." Keith blushes and nods, not sure what to say. The woman smiles brightly. "Be patient with him, he's just nervous."

Keith can only nod again, dazed, as Mrs. McClain sends him off with another smile. He stumbles down the hall, not sure which way his friends went. He looks back and Lance's mom points upstairs. Keith blushes harder for some reason.

He climbs the stairs and, even if he couldn't hear his friends talking loudly, the bright blue door with  _LANCE_ written across it would've been a dead giveaway. He quietly slips through the cracked door.

Of  _course_ this is Lance's room.

Much like the downstairs, there's photos everywhere, but they're not in frames. They're mostly polaroids and photo strips, pinned to the walls with thumbtacks and connected by string to form constellations. The ceiling is painted black and covered in glow-in-the-dark plastic stars, arranged too meticulously to be random. He has one of those moon phase wall decorations hanging right above his bed, framed by icicle string lights.

It's like his own personal corner of the night sky.

"Sorry," Lance sighs from his desk chair. "I know it's dorky..."

Now inside the room, Keith can see that the fourth wall is covered in posters--of astronauts and Hubble deep space images, fake travel posters like  _Visit Titan_ , and even the wayward  _Star Trek_ trading card.

" _It's awesome._ " Keith breathes out, voice full of awe.

"Yeah, I know." Lance says haughtily.

Keith throws an amused smirk his way; Lance just grins.

"So what're you wearing tomorrow?" Hunk asks. He and Pidge are lounging on Lance's bed.

"Check this out," Lance pushes off the wall with his feet and rolls past Keith to his closet. He gets up and disappears into the forest of clothes for a moment. "Ta-da!" He emerges with something protected by a dust cover.

"Wow, very poncho chic." Pidge says dryly.

Hunk giggles quietly as Lance pouts at her. "That's not the outfit!"

"We know." Hunk says teasingly. Lance turns pink again.

"Well?" Keith says encouragingly. "You gonna show us or are you gonna wear a poncho to the dance?"

" _It's not_ \--ugh!" He undoes the zipper on the dust cover and shakes the hanger until the cover falls to the floor, revealing a sleek, navy pair of dress pants with a matching vest, a white dress shirt, and a red bow tie.

"Jeez, Lance. It's a middle school dance, not your cousin's wedding." Pidge says. Lance's pink smolders into a scarlet.

"I think it looks nice." Keith says. "What're you gonna wear, Pidge?"

She gives an easy shrug and grins. "I got this little yellow chiffon number. Gonna look like a Twinkie."

Keith wrinkles his nose at her. "That sounds hideous."

She cackles. "It is."

"What about you, Keith?" Lance asks, voice high and tense.

"Oh, uh..." He looks down at his clothes. "Probably something like this?"

Lance gasps; Hunk falls back on the bed laughing. "Wrong thing to say!"

"Keeeeeith!" Lance whines. "You can't wear a _t-shirt_ and _shorts_ to a dance!"

"Why not?" he says, a defensive blush lighting up his face.

"Because it's a  _dance!_ You're supposed to look  _nice!_ "

"Yeah, it's a dance. It's going to be in the gym and it's going to be  _hot._ I'll die in something like that!" He gestures at Lance's outfit.

" _Nope!_ Nu-uh, no, no, no! Unacceptable!" Lance pushes him into the desk chair and ventures back into his closet. "It's your lucky day, Mullet. I'm your fairy godmother and you're getting a  _makeover._ "

Keith pales and looks to the others for help. Hunk crosses himself while Pidge pretends to hang herself. The peanut gallery is of no help.

"Aha!" Lance emerges with far too many hangers in hand. He holds up a black dress shirt to Keith. "Nah." He tosses it on the floor. Next up is a white shirt. "Uh-uh." Also onto the floor. Bright red? No. Blue? No. Baby blue? Also no. Navy blue?

"How many different blues are there?" Keith grumbles as Lance tosses another shirt to the floor.

"Do you want the ballpark guess or the smartass answer?"

"Neither." Keith huffs. He picks up the black shirt from the floor. "What was wrong with this one?"

"It washes you out."

"What does that even mean??"

"It means it makes you look pale."

"I  _am_ pale!"

Hunk and Pidge giggle-snort while Lance huffs and stamps his foot. " _Ghostly_ pale, not nerd-who-doesn't-go-outside pale! You want something that'll compliment your skin tone. Like this!" He procures a pink shirt. The peanut gallery loses it.

"It's _pink!_ " Keith squeaks, voice cracking. His face flushes the same color as the shirt.

Lance frowns at the garment. "It's light red."

"It's pink." the other two sing.

"Light red!" Lance sighs and closes his eyes like he's praying for patience. "Just, try it on? Please?"

"Right now?"

"Yeah."

"You want me to change here? In front of everyone?"

"What's the big deal? We change in front of each other every day in Gym."

"Pidge is  _right there!_ " He throws an arm out towards the girl.

She wolf whistles obnoxiously. " _Take it off!_ " she hollers. Keith growls, blush darkening.

"I'll, show you where the bathroom is." Hunk offers, bless his soul. He hops off the bed and leads Keith into the hallway.

Once at the bathroom, Keith hovers in the doorway. "Do I have to do this?"

Hunk gives him an understanding smile. "It'll make Lance happy."

"Yeah, but," He holds up the shirt. "It's  _pink._ "

Hunk chuckles quietly. "I dunno, I think he might be onto something." He lifts the shirt up to compare it to Keith's arm. "It  _brings out your natural blush._ " Keith gawks at him, betrayed. Hunk laughs harder. "Hey, don't think you're the first friend Lance's tried to give a makeover to." Keith smiles at that; Hunk gently nudges him into the bathroom. "Now come on, what's worse? Trying on a pink shirt or disappointing Lance?"

"You play dirty." Keith mumbles but can't hide his growing smile. Hunk flaps a hand at him and wanders back to Lance's room. Keith shuts the door.

He takes a moment to collect himself before changing. If he wasn't already embarrassed about the color, he's doubly embarrassed about his outburst. He doesn't get dressed up very often and forgot he can just throw on dress shirts over t-shirts, which is exactly what he does.

He finishes buttoning up the shirt and takes a step back. It's...not completely awful. Okay fine, it actually  _does_ look good. Hunk was right, the color makes his skin look rosy. Keith is used to a normally dark wardrobe, but he's starting to see what Lance meant when he said black makes him look unnaturally pale...

With another deep breath to mentally prepare himself for Pidge's inevitable roasting, Keith goes back to Lance's room.

All conversation stops the moment he walks in. Hunk smiles at him with a discreet thumbs-up. Pidge pouts and chews her lip like she can't find the right words. Lance, who had been lazily spinning in his desk chair, stares at him. He stares and stares, and when he starts spinning the other way, he twists his whole body to keep staring and manages to fall out of the chair. Pidge sighs defeatedly and digs a dollar bill out of her pocket. She hands it to Hunk.

"You look good, dude." he chirps as he stuffs the money into his pocket.

"Yeah," Lance says quickly, springing up from the floor. "Really good." An awkward beat passes. Lance is still staring. He shakes himself out of his stupor and laughs, the sound high-pitched and nervous. "I mean, _of course you do._ I'm a  _master_ of fashion." he says smugly.

Keith rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the bed. "Right..." he teases sarcastically, taking a seat next to Hunk. "How could I have ever doubted you..." Hunk and Pidge snicker beside him.

Lance blushes again. "Exactly!" he squeaks, determined to roll with it. "So then you won't complain while I figure out the rest of the outfit!"

"What!" Keith squawks, lurching forward. Hunk and Pidge laugh harder. "The shirt isn't enough?!"

"Of course not!" Lance chides, sauntering back to his closet.

"I dunno, maybe it's a  _pussy out_ sorta look..."

" _PIDGE!!_ " Lance shrieks, face on fire. Hunk howls with laughter.

"I have pants at home." Keith says, desperately trying to ignore her.

Lance pouts at him. " _Long_ pants? Not shorts?"

"Yes."

" _Dark_ long pants?"

" _Yes._ " He sighs. "It's not like any of  _your_ pants would fit me anyway..."

Lance considers him for a long moment. " _Fine._ " he relents. "And you have shoes too?"

Keith rolls his eyes. "Yes, Lance. I own shoes."

"Okay, then we just need to find you a vest..."

"I am  _not_ wearing a vest." Keith says firmly.

"Then a jacket--"

" _Absolutely not._ "

Lance groans in frustration. "C'mon, Keith!  _Just_ a dress shirt isn't formal enough!"

"I dunno," Hunk says. "Sounds like the perfect amount of formal for an eighth grade dance..." Pidge nods in agreement. Lance glares at them.

"You need a tie." he decides after a minute. He cuts off Keith's protest. " _Nope,_ I don't wanna hear it. You  _need_ a tie. Otherwise you'll just look like it's school picture day."

Keith huffs and crosses his arms. "I'm pretty sure this is the  _exact same_ outfit I wore on picture day." he says, tugging the hem of his t-shirt out from underneath the button-up.

Lance slaps a hand to his chest and gasps. " _Animal._ " he accuses lowly.

Keith just shakes his head. " _Fine._ " he grumbles. "If it'll make you happy."

"Good!" Lance chirps proudly. He crosses the room and starts rifling through his dresser. "Well," he says, pulling tie after tie out of a drawer and draping them over one arm. "You've got options at least." he laughs. Keith just sighs and slides off the bed, trying very hard to keep his poker face in place. He pads over to where Lance stands expectantly.

Lance picks a tie at random and holds it up to Keith. He frowns and tries another. Same result. Keith is starting to struggle to hold in his amused smile. Lance runs out of ties quickly.

"Hang on," he mutters and wanders out of the room.

Keith lets out a breath and turns to the others. "What was the bet?"

Hunk grins. "Pidge didn't think you could pull off pink."

The girl sighs and leans into Hunk's side. "And I stand corrected." She gives Keith a lazy smirk. "You look nice."

Keith flushes again. "Thanks." he mutters. He glances at the door. "Is he always like this with makeovers?"

" _Nope._ " Pidge grins. "He gave up on me in less than five minutes and hasn't tried to touch my style since."

"He still tries sometimes with me." Hunk says. He smiles warmly. "But he's really going all out with you."

Before Keith can respond to that, Lance comes back in with a new assortment of ties. "Okay! I raided Marco's room."

Keith fails to bite back a laugh. "You didn't have to..."

He can't read Lance's expression, but if he had to guess, he'd say he looks embarrassed. " _'Course I did..._ " he mumbles. "We gotta complete  _the look_." Keith laughs at that. Lance beams at him, but that smile quickly fades back into annoyance when none of his brother's ties satisfy him either.

"Just a minute." He runs out of the room again and returns a moment later with two more ties. "Okay, this is all Luis left behind." He holds one up to Keith, frowns, and holds up the other. He looks heartbroken.

Keith offers him a smile. "It's okay, Lance, the shirt looks fine on its own."

"But it's your first dance!" Lance says, a little desperate. "Don't you wanna look  _perfect?_ "

Keith chuckles in response.

Lance inhales sharply, face lighting up like a light bulb went off in his brain. He runs to his closet, to his own outfit for tomorrow. He tugs the red bow tie loose from the shirt collar.

"Lance wh--" Keith stammers as the other boy races back to him.

" _Aha!_ " he cheers brightly, holding the tie up to Keith. " _That's_ why the others didn't suit you!" He grins triumphantly as he laces the tie around Keith's collar. "Should've known you were a bow tie kinda guy, Kogane." He looks far too proud of himself as he finishes clipping the tie in place.

Keith gawks at him incredulously. "I can't wear this!" he rasps, hands flying up to try to remove it.

Lance frowns and pulls Keith's hands away. "Why not?"

"Because it's  _your_ bow tie!"

Lance's face falls even more. "You don't like it?"

"I--!" Keith blushes deeply. "I don't  _care_ what I look like, and you were  _so excited_ about your  _perfect_ outfit!"

"But  _you_ look perfect..."

 _Oh God, Keith can't say no._ He sighs, trying to stare Lance down, but of course it doesn't work. He lowers his hands. " _Fine._ " he mumbles, not meeting Lance's eyes. "I'll wear it..."

" _Excellent!_ " Lance steps away and starts cleaning up the mess of rejected clothes on the floor.

"So what're you gonna wear now...?" Keith asks, too quietly apparently. Lance doesn't seem to hear him.

Hunk does, though. "Keith looks great and all, but what're you gonna wear now, Lance?" he asks at a normal volume.

Lance straightens up and considers this. "Dunno." He grins and waves his armful of ties. "But I got plenty to choose from!"

"Kids!" Mrs. McClain calls from downstairs. "Brownies are ready!"

"YESSSS!" Pidge screams, launching off the bed and shoving past Lance. Lance spins in a circle, dazed. Hunk laughs, chasing after her and patting Lance on the shoulder as he politely squeezes by.

Lance stares at the door, then glances back at Keith. "Ready?" he asks.

Keith gets through half a nod before pausing and looking down at his shirt. "Can I take this off?"

Lance chuckles and nods. Relieved, Keith tugs at the bow tie, but when he can't figure out the clasp, he starts unbuttoning the shirt instead. Suddenly Lance is in front of him. "Can't even manage a clip-on..." he laughs softly, removing the tie for him.

"In my defense," Keith says, shrugging off the shirt just as Lance pulls the tie away. "I didn't put it on, either."

Lance smiles as Keith hands him the shirt. He folds it neatly and sets it on his bed, placing the bow tie on top. He considers it for a moment. "Is it really okay? You don't have to wear it if you don't want to..."

That surprises Keith. After all that fuss, Lance is giving him a chance to back out? "No," he says, "I want to."

Lance's smile alone makes it worth it.

"If you guys don't hurry up I'm gonna eat your brownies too!" Pidge yells from downstairs.

The boys laughs and make their way down.

They find that Pidge and Hunk have migrated back to the living room. Hunk is standing in the middle of the room, a plate held above his head in one hand, the other holding Pidge back.

"This is why I'm the good twin!" he snaps at her. Pidge hisses like a weasel and swipes for the brownies again. Hunk notices Keith and Lance and his face melts into instant relief. "Oh thank goodness!"

Lance laughs and takes the plate from him, his superior height making Pidge sulk away in defeat. "How many did she get?"

"Just one." Hunk sighs, gladly accepting a brownie. "I used her foodgasm as a distraction."

Over in the big armchair, Pidge sits curled up in a pouty ball. She has her phone out and Keith realizes she's connected to the speaker again. An oddly familiar song plays faintly in the background:  _Deceptiooon... Disgraaace...!_

Keith snorts and sits down next to Hunk on the couch.

Lance cautiously approaches Pidge. He keeps the plate of brownies at an arms length behind him as he holds a single one out for her. She regards it warily. "Don't just hork it." he tells her. She glares defiantly and snatches up the proffered dessert, shoving the whole thing in her mouth and flipping him off.

Lance sighs and retreats back to the couch.

" _So good!_ " Pidge moans, mouth full, as Lance squeezes in between Keith and Hunk. "Tía you're an angel!" she calls. Keith hears Lance's mom laugh from the kitchen.

"Here," Lance holds the plate up for Keith.

Keith mutters a thank you and takes one, and suddenly there's a rabid wolverine scrambling over him and knocking him back.

" _Pidge!_ " Lance shrieks.

She makes exaggerated, cartoonish _noming_ noises as she manages to stuff at least three more brownies into her mouth before being wrestled away by Hunk. He takes her back to the armchair and plops down with her, keeping his arms wrapped firmly around her middle. Pidge's cheeks are stuffed full like a chipmunk but she still manages to smirk devilishly at Keith, giving him the  _OK_ finger sign.

" _Aw, dude!_ " Lance gripes loudly. "Your hair!"

Keith reaches up and feels the mussed up mess Pidge left him with.

"Here..." Lance gives a put-upon sigh and slides behind Keith. Keith straightens stiffly as he's suddenly sitting between Lance's legs, the other boy's fingers combing through his hair. Over in the armchair, Pidge  _and_ Hunk both grin like idiots.

_Oh. They're **good.**_

Lance hums as he makes quick work of Keith's hair, but he doesn't move away. Instead, he lets his fingers glide languidly through the long locks for a few moments before quietly asking, "Can I braid your hair?"

Pidge snorts so hard she ends up choking on her mouthful of brownie.

Lance huffs behind him. "Don't give me that!" he pouts. "I wouldn't have to play with Keith's hair if you hadn't cut yours!"

"That's  _why_ I cut it..." she coughs.

Lance grumbles something Keith can't quite make out.

"I don't mind." he squeaks, thankful Lance can't see his burning face. He silently curses the way his voice breaks though. "Y-you can braid my hair, it's fine." Based on Hunk and Pidge's barely contained laughter, either Keith has discovered a new shade of red, or Lance is grinning.

"Oh Keith," Pidge starts with an evil smirk. "You let him do it once and you can never take it back, and then there's only one way out..." She mimes a pair of scissors with her fingers.

"Quit it, Pidge." Lance grumbles.

Keith shrugs. "It's not supposed to be this long, actually..." he admits. Lance's hands pause their ministrations. "It's just... My dad doesn't have time to take me to get it cut..."

"You said he sleeps all day?" Lance asks and Keith can hear the frown in his voice.

Keith nods and feels his hair slip out of Lance's hands. "He's a firefighter. When we moved here, the night shift was the only one available, and even though he has some seniority now, no one wants to trade with him." Keith slumps a little. "And my dad isn't the kind of person to leave the department without coverage."

"What about you?" Hunk asks softly.

"I'm fine." Keith says, but his throat is tight.

"What about your mom?" Pidge asks.

Keith shrugs. "She's currently deployed, but she can't tell us where."

"Your mom's in the military?" Lance asks from behind him.

Keith nods. "Marine corps."

Pidge gasps loudly. "Your mom's a marine!?"

"Yeah, a lieutenant colonel."

"Your mom's a  _badass!_ "

" _Katherine!_ " Mrs. McClain's voice comes booming in from the other room.

Pidge laughs. "Sorry, Tía!"

"Yeah, she is..." Keith laughs quietly. He smile quickly turns sour though. "That's probably why they keep shipping her out..." he mumbles. The room goes quiet and he instantly regrets his words. "But, uh, that reminds me! Pidge," he tries, desperate to steer the conversation back to something lighthearted. "I was wondering this before but, why does Lance's mom call you that?"

"What?"

" _Katherine._ "

Pidge laughs, readjusting herself in Hunk's hold and using him like a cuddly pillow. "Because it's my name." she says lightly.

Keith gives her a scrunched-up pout. "But that makes no sense."

"Well technically, I used to go by  _Katie_..."

"Then where'd  _Pidge_ come from?"

She snorts. "Well you see, my brother's an  _asshole_..."

Keith laughs, but the sound quickly dies in his throat as he feels Lance start to shift away. He twists around to ask, "Where're you going?" He instantly flushes at the words; so does Lance.

"I-I was just," Lance stammers, glancing away quickly.

Keith suddenly gets brave. "I thought you were gonna braid my hair..."  _Go big or go home, right?_  He's already gotten this far...

Lance stares at him, pink blush darkening. "B-but, you said it's supposed to be short..."

"So? It's long now."

"My mom could cut it for you. Since your dad-- _I mean_ , she cuts me and my brothers' hair..." Lance swallow audibly. "You could have a nice clean cut for the dance."

 _Alright, Keith. Time for the Big Guns_. "What if I wanted to wear it up? You gonna make me show up tomorrow with that neon green headband?"

Pidge scoffs. " _Neon green..._ Lance! Did you give him my hair ties!? I've been looking for those!"

Lance ignores her. "But... Are you sure? You just said it's not supposed to be long."

Keith chuckles. "Well, you're always making fun of it, so..."

Lance balks, offended. "I do not!"

Across the room, both Hunk and Pidge snicker. "You literally called him  _Mullet_ for like, an entire year." Hunk says in a helpful tone.

Lance sniffs indignantly.

Pidge gasps playfully. "Is Lance finally going to admit that he likes Keith's hair?"

Lance gives a choked-off squawk, face decidedly red.

Keith bites down on his smile. "You can still braid it if you want. I'd..." He swallows hard. "I'd like it if you did."

He holds his breath, heart going a mile a minute, half sure he's being too obvious.

Lance shifts behind him again, wiggling to get comfortable. "Yeah, alright." he mumbles, and then his hands are back in Keith's hair. "Gotta make the mullet  _presentable_ , y'know?"

Keith can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. He doubles forward slightly and feels a tug where Lance has a section of his hair pulled taut. He doesn't hear Lance say anything, but based on how godawful  _smug_ his friends look across the room, Keith has to assume he's at least smiling.

"So," Keith says after a moment. " _Henry_ , huh?"

Hunk snorts. " _Darn_. I was hoping you forgot about that." He sighs lovingly. " _Henry Bartholomew Garret the Third._ "

Keith laughs and accidentally gets his hair tugged again. " _Seriously?_ "

"Seriously."

"How'd you get  _Hunk_ out of  _that?_ "

"Well you see, my parents called me  _Hank_ when I was little, and well, guess who spelled their name wrong on the first day of kindergarten..."

Keith splutters a laugh. "And you just... _rolled_ with it?" 

Hunk shrugs casually. "What can I say, it stuck. Besides, it sounds way less _colonizer-y_." He grins. "Also makes me sound like a beach babe."

Lance snorts. "Hunk, you  _are_ a beach babe." He directs his next words to Keith. "Every summer, if he isn't in the water here, he's back in Samoa hitting the waves."

"You surf?" Keith asks.

"He doesn't like to brag, but  _Henry_ here has been winning surfing tournaments since he was in diapers." Pidge chimes in.

Hunk looks embarrassed. "Yeah, _Katherine,_ that's  _why_ I don't like to talk about it--there's nothing impressive about the toddler competitions."

"I think that's _really_ impressive." Keith says. "I can't even stand on a surfboard, and you were winning contests when you were a baby? That's awesome!"

"I could teach you if you want."

Before Keith can say anything, Lance tugs particularly hard on his hair. Keith lets out a small yelp. "Sorry," Lance mumbles. Keith opens his mouth but Hunk cuts him off.

"But Lance is way more impressive in the water!" he says quickly. "Lance, what's the longest you've held your breath again?"

"Five minutes, twenty-six seconds." he answers easily.

Keith's jaw hits the floor. " _No way._ " Lance laughs. "No! Are you serious!?  _How!?_ "

"What can I say? I have big lungs." he jokes.

"Yeah, why do you think he's so  _loud_." Pidge quips. He can't see it, but he knows Lance must be glaring at her.

"You gonna show off tomorrow?" Keith asks playfully.

Hunk laughs. "The last time Lance tried showing off in a pool, he had the lifeguards swarming him in less than two minutes."

"Uh, yeah, so that would be a  _no_..." Lance forces a laugh.

"I wouldn't challenge him to a race either," Pidge says. "Not to alarm you, Keith, but you have a mermaid braiding your hair."

Keith smiles. "Nah, we're done competing. We had our last one today. It was a draw."

He expects Lance to contest that verdict, to want to finish the challenge and finally settle their score, but he says nothing, just fidgets a little and keeps working on his hair.

"Okay," Lance says a minute later, voice wobbly. "Finished."

He scoots away and Keith immediately misses him. He reaches up and carefully runs a hand over his hair. Not all of it is braided. He's not really sure what's going on back there...

"Here," Lance gets up and dashes out of the room, returning a moment later with a hand mirror. He holds it up for Keith.

Keith instantly blushes. Two braids, laced close to his scalp, lay on either side of his head. The longest strands of his bangs are woven into them. The braids wrap around and come together in the back.

"Do you like it?" Lance asks with a hint of something hopeful.

It's beautiful. Gorgeous, really. Keith's never felt so... _pretty_ , before. He has to deflect this.

"I look like an elf."

Across the room, Pidge snorts.

In front of him, Lance huffs. "Elves are cool!"

"I thought I was going to be a barbarian."

Lance lightly smacks him with the mirror. "This is for the  _dance_ , not dungeons  _or_ dragons!"

"Pidge is a dwarf." Hunk adds helpfully.

Lance sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Why," Keith grins, thankful for his friends jumping on the tangent. "Because she's short?"

"Well I'm an assassin!" Lance shouts, exasperated. "Doesn't mean I'm going to the dance dressed like Naruto!"

Keith leans past him. "Hunk?"

"Cleric. And yes, I  _will_ being going in full robed attire."

The three of them laugh as Lance slowly loses his mind.

"Wait," Keith chuckles, "so who runs your campaigns?"

"Pidge's brother's hot friend's boyfriend Adam!" Lance shouts.

"Not technically." Pidge mutters. "But he's working on it."

"Can we please focus on the dance!" Lance yells desperately, throwing his arms out.

Keith laughs, but the sounds catches in his throat. " _Wait._ Pidge's..." His face scrunches up in concentration, mouth moving silently as he replays Lance's words. "Adam... Not Adam _Whitman_ , right?"

Lance shrugs. "I don't know his last name, why does it matter!"

"No yeah, Adam Whitman, that's him." Hunk says. "Do you know him?"

The horror slowly seeps into each and every one of Keith's features as he turns to Lance. " _Oh my God._ " he rasps. Lance's answering look is wide-eyed and mildly concerned. "You're talking about Takashi."

"Taka...?" Lance mumbles. His face lights up with understanding. "You mean Shiro?"

A low, whining groan finds its home in Keith's throat. "You called him hot." Disgust stretches his face into a grimace. "You called my  _brother **hot**._ "

Lance somehow both pales and blushes, eyes bugging out of his head. "Y--" he chokes. "Your  _brother?!_ Shiro is your  ** _brother!?!_** "

Keith's groan morphs into a horrified scream; Lance also screams. Hunk and Pidge howl with laughter.

"You called him hot!" Keith accuses loudly. "You called my sickeningly responsible dork cousin  _hot!!_ "

"Your brousin is Shiro!" Lance fires back. "How could you not mention that your brousin is the Japanese Adonis Takashi Shirogane!!"

Keith shrieks, snatching a blanket off the back of the couch and throwing it over Lance. "Stop!! He's such a nerd!!  _Hot?!?_ "

Their antics quickly devolve into a wrestling match, with Keith trying to keep Lance imprisoned in the Blanket of Shame while Lance struggles to free himself.

"He is!" Lance defends from inside the blanket cocoon. "Anyone can see he is!"

"Anyone but Adam." Pidge mutters. Hunk high-fives her.

" _UGH!_ " Keith tries to smother him. "That's so weird!"

" _It's not weird!_ "

"It's kinda weird." Hunk counters. Pidge lobs a pillow at Keith.

He catches it midair and proceeds to pummel Lance with it. "He's! My! Brother!!" Keith yells, though the words crumble into laughter. He's straddling his blanket-covered crush and beating him with a pillow. It's a little funny.

Lance finally wiggles free, sitting up and throwing Keith off. His head pops out of the twisted blanket, hair a disaster and face bright red. "How was I supposed to know that?! It's not my fault hotness runs in your family!"

_What?_

Keith is distracted just long enough for Lance to tackle him and shove the blanket over his head. Oh how the tables have turned.

"You're just biased because you're related!" he cackles.

"Yeah, and you're  _bi_ -ased." Pidge snickers.

Lance shrieks something but Keith can't make out the words, too busy trying to escape Blanket Jail. One of his flailing limbs connects with Lance and he hears the other boy fall away with a grunt. Keith quickly tears the blanket away and throws it out of both their reaches. He falls onto his back on the floor and glances over: Lance is doubled over, clutching his stomach but laughing himself to tears. Keith huffs, finding the sound contagious.

"Let's just... Not talk about my brother." he giggles.

"I second that." Lance snorts.

"Uh yeah, about that. Overruled." Pidge says. They both look up at her; she has her phone out. "Practice just let out. Lance, Shiro's going to drop Veronica off and he already has Matt in the car, so I guess I'm catching a ride with them. Keith," Pidge looks over at him, "he wants to know if you need a ride home too."

"Oh, uhh..." Keith sits up. He glances at Lance; he's looking at him expectantly. "I guess? Sure."

That wasn't the answer he wanted, apparently. Lance's expression falls. "You're not going to stay for dinner?"

"Oh," Keith can feel the embarrassed heat in his cheeks. He has to look away. "I didn't, uh..." He swallows hard. "I should probably head home anyway. My dad's probably awake by now..."

"Oh. Right." Lance mumbles. "Yeah, you should--I mean--yeah..."

The room is painfully silent for an awkward moment.

"Welp," Pidge says loudly, slapping her knees. "I'm gonna go see if Tía will pack some brownies for the road." She hops off the armchair.

"I also will leave!" Hunk says quickly, scurrying after her.

Keith and Lance watch them disappear into the kitchen. Lance looks over at Keith with a strange expression and Keith finds he can't meet his eyes.

"Sorry." Lance mumbles quietly after a moment.

"For what?"

Lance shrugs. "For... I don't know. This isn't what I promised when I invited you over..."

Keith finally looks up at him; Lance is frowning at a spot on the floor. Keith nudges him with his foot. "I had fun." he says, trying to sound reassuring. Lance hums. Keith pokes him with his toes again. "My ankle doesn't hurt anymore."

Lance meets his gaze with a soft smile that makes Keith's heart flutter.

A door opens and closes loudly, followed by a sharp gasp.

" _You_ must be  _Keith!_ " A girl a few years older than him strides into the living room. She towers over them, hands on her hips and a wicked smile on her lips. "I've heard  _all_ about  _you..._ "

Keith is lost. He looks to Lance for answers but the other boy is glaring daggers at the girl, face bright red. " _Ronnie._ " he says like a warning.

The girl smirks and adjusts her glasses. "...From Shiro." she says.

Lance's sister smiles and extends a hand to Keith. He takes it and she simultaneously shakes it and pulls him up. "Hi, I'm Veronica. Shiro's waiting outside." On cue, a car horn honks twice.

"What!" Lance complains loudly. "Already?! Pidge said you guys  _just_ got out of practice!"

Veronica shrugs. "Matt was texting her, not me."

Lance pouts, bottom lip jutting out. He mutters something under his breath.

Pidge emerges from the kitchen, a huge tupperware container full of brownies held protectively in her arms. "C'mon, Keith." she says, scooping up her backpack. "The longer we make Matt wait, the harder he'll complain."

Keith rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but still obediently goes for his bag as well.

"Wait!" Lance says desperately. He takes off upstairs and returns a moment later with the shirt and bow tie. "Here!"

Keith takes the clothes and notices they've since been covered in red cat hair. He laughs softly. "Looks like the scarlet witch strikes again."

Lance flushes a deep crimson, presumably embarrassed on behalf of his cat. "Sorry," he mutters, reaching over and futily trying to brush the hair off.

Keith chuckles and holds the shirt to his chest, out of Lance's reach. "It's fine. Kosmo sheds like crazy. We have more lint rollers than plates."

Lance cracks a nervous smile, but another honk from outside startles it away. He glances frantically at the door, then back at Keith.

"Um, tomorrow? Uh," Lance stutters, voice pitching up. His ears are pink and his eyes are squeezed shut. "D-do you, um, t-tomorrow, do you wanna come over again? B-before the dance?"

Keith blinks, barely getting an  _um_ out before Lance barrels on.

"Mamá wants to take pictures of everybody. S-so Pidge and Hunk will be here too!"

Keith chews his lip. "Sure." Lance gets one excited inhale in before Keith holds up a finger. "On _one_ condition."

"Anything!" he says a little too eagerly.

Keith fails to bite back his smile. "Will you braid my hair again?"

Lance blinks, shoulders falling slightly. "But... I thought you didn't like it...?"

"I didn't say that."

Lance frowns at him. "You said it makes you look like an elf..."

"Yeah? Elves are cool."

Lance studies his face, like the pores on his nose will tell him whether or not he's joking. After a moment, he melts into an easy smile. "Yeah. They are."

Keith smiles back.

Another long, impatient honk.

Lance's mom appears from the kitchen. "Keith sweetheart, are you leaving already?"

Keith nods. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. McClain. And thank you for the brownies."

The woman tuts and comes over to them. " _Tía,_ you call me  _Tía_ , okay?" She frowns down at him in a loving, pouty sort of way.

Keith smiles. "Okay. Thank you, Tía."

She beams likes the sun and wraps Keith up in another hug. "It was so wonderful to meet you, Keith! You stop by whenever you want, okay? And stay for dinner next time!"

"Okay, okay! I will." he laughs as she lets him go.

The woman stands up straighter and pointedly looks at Lance. He flinches and looks back. She nods at Keith, not breaking eye contact with her son. He sighs and rolls his head.

" _Fiine_." he grumbles and steps forward. All hint of reluctance is instantly gone when he looks at Keith. He offers him a sheepish smile and opens his arms.

Keith bites his cheek to keep from giggling. He throws Mrs. McClain a tiny smile (which she returns with a sly one), and steps into the hug. They latch onto each other, squeezing tightly to the point where Keith thinks it's a secret contest to see who can break the other's ribs first.

The car honks again, but the sound is brief, almost cut-off.

Keith laughs and lets go. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lance."

"See you tomorrow." he parrots back, voice crackly.

With a wave, Keith steps outside. The first thing he sees is Matt being corralled into the back seat on the passenger side, Adam standing behind him with his arms crossed. Keith jogs up to the car.

"Sorry." Shiro says immediately. " _Someone_ kept leaning over for the horn."

"Naughty teenagers get banished to the kids table." Pidge snickers as her brother slides in next to her.

"That's the last time you get to call shotgun." Adam scolds, climbing into the front seat.

Matt crosses his arms and slouches, pointedly digging his knees into the seat in front of him. " _Fine, fine, whatever_. Can we go?"

"Is everyone buckled in?" Shiro asks, glancing in the rear-view mirror. He waits for everyone to grumble an affirmative before pulling out of the driveway.

Keith bows his head with a sigh. "I can't believe Lance thinks he's  _hot_." he mumbles.

Pidge snorts next to him. "Yeah, that one surprised me too."

"Who thinks I'm hot?" Shiro calls back at them.

Keith inhales sharply. "No one!"

"Just the  _boy_ he likes!" Pidge, the  _traitor_ , coos.

Matt laughs. "Lance thinks Shiro's hot?!"

"MATT!" Keith screeches. Pidge howls.

"Oh come on, Keith! Everyone knows!" the older Holt laughs.

"Yeah, everyone but  _Lance._ " Pidge, the little  _shit_ , snickers.

Adam laughs from the front seat. "Oh man, that must suck! How clueless does someone have to be to not realize their friend has a crush on them?"

"Yeah,  _Adam_." Shiro grits out. "How clueless  _does_ someone have to be?"

He shrugs. "Pretty darn clueless, I guess!"

Shiro beats his head on the steering wheel.

 

Adam gets dropped off first, leaving Shiro to be relentlessly teased right up until he drops the Holts off as well. When it's just the two of them, he invites Keith to sit up front with him.

"We sure know how to pick 'em, don't we?" Shiro sighs fondly.

Keith smiles. "If it helps, Lance already thinks you guys're dating."

Shiro chuckles. "So do Adam's parents."

"Which do you think'll come first? Adam catching on, or his parents asking when the wedding is?"

"You joke, but I think Matt and Pidge have a bet going."

They both laugh.

"But seriously," Shiro glances over at him with a soft smile, "how are things?"

Keith shrugs. "Dad's exhausted, Mom's gone, but hey, at least I finally have some friends."

His brother gives him another pointed look. "Keith." _Oh how Keith hates that tone._ "You know what I mean."

Keith sighs and sinks down in his seat, knees pressing up against the dashboard. "How much do you know?"

"I'm best friends with Matt Holt."

Keith groans. "So everything?" Shiro nods; Keith makes another miserable noise. "...I don't know." he says honestly after a long moment. "We're  _friends_ , that's for sure. And he's completely chill with the fact that I--I mean, his  _secret admirer_ , is a boy, but..."

"But you're worried those two things can't go together." Keith nods. Shiro gives him a sympathetic glance. "Look, I can't say with one hundred percent certainty that everything will be okay. I've played campaigns with the guy, and I've listened to you vent about him all year. I know he can be... _dramatic_. All I can really say is, if things go south tomorrow, call me. I don't care what time it is, or where you are, I will come get you. But Keith," They pull up to Keith's apartment. Shiro puts the car in park and gives him his full attention. "I know this has been a rough year for you. With your mom and the move, and a new school, I know things haven't been easy for you. But this is the happiest I've seen you all year. I really, _truly_ hope things go well tomorrow. But if they don't, I'm here for you. If they don't, I don't want you to be alone. I don't want you to  _feel_ like you're alone, okay?"

Shiro meets his eyes, his expression serious and comforting. Keith sniffles and scrubs his arm across his face. " _God_ , you're such a  _dad friend_." he grumbles. "Can't believe anyone thinks that's  _hot_."

Shiro snorts into a laugh. He reaches over and ruffles Keith's hair. Keith squawks and swats his hand away. He gives his brother a pouty glare; Shiro just grins. They both melt back into laughter.

"Thanks, Shiro." Keith says quietly, unable to hide his grateful little smile.

"Hey, that's what brothers are for." He smiles softly. "Now c'mere you little punk!" Keith laughs as Shiro leans over the middle console and wraps him up in a hug. He wriggles in his hold, especially when Shiro deigns to give him a noogie, but they quickly slip back into a heartfelt moment. Shiro holds him tightly, and Keith squeezes back as hard as he can. Shiro was right, this entire year has been a mess. Keith doesn't know what he'd do without his brother for support.

"Okay," the older boy breathes, finally letting go. "Go on. Get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow."

Keith rolls his eyes but can't help his smile. " _Such_ a dad friend."

Shiro laughs. "Go! Shoo! Off my lawn, you whippersnapper!"

Keith laughs as he climbs out of the car. Shiro waits until he steps into his apartment before driving away.

Inside, Keith is greeted by a very clingy, very whiny Kosmo. His dad is in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner. He smiles brightly when Keith walks in, despite the dark bags under his eyes. Keith smiles back, plopping down at the table.

"Soo?" his dad prods playfully. "How was your day?"

" _Long._ " Keith sighs, folding his arms on the table and resting his head on them. He still smiles up at his dad when he sets a plate of mac and cheese down in front of him.

He quirks an eyebrow at Keith, smirking knowingly.

Keith fails to fight back a grin, so he buries his face in his arms instead. "And _perfect._ "

His dad laughs.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this beast of a chapter, I have no idea how long the final one will take, or how long it'll be. Just assume that I'm working on it, and if it takes forever, it's probably huge.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos mean the world to me <3


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